adventures in gardening, or so it seems

[leisaie]

i have been nurturing
a quiet forest in my chest.
soft fern and wildflowers are
overgrowing the caverns of
my heart, flourishing amid
thump, thump, and the
strong red walls.
there are vines creeping
through arteries & veins
following the bad blood,
the good blood. this
is the only part of me
where good and bad are
so easy to define.
tentative shoots curl
into my lungs, give their
oxygen, and bloom.
i am breathing flowers
that press against sternum
& ribcage, filling me.
i keep this as my secret,
deep and dark like fairytale
woods. and if no one knows
then they will never come
with axes and chainsaws,
taking what i love
and building houses
that i will never live in.