Ripe / Problems

I fell for you

when the first drop

of snow landed

I could have been a rose

in a field of your tulips

your bulbs

encasing my thorns

But you made my petals

burn obsidian

Your bell shaped words

prickled my husks

velveted it with your lies

It painted me

Your deceit covered me darling

And yet

I’ll gladly drown for you