(no subject)
If death were a flower I would pick it's petals off one by one, rub them so deeply in to my skin. When the petals became dust I would pick another, I would this time eat the petals, every last one, I wouldn't chew them, just swallow. Upon swallowing the last petal I would pick another one.... I would chop up the petals on this one, into fine bits and snort them....I'd pick another and would place it's petals in boiling water and lap them out of a bowl on the floor...and still I would pick another, I would use this last one to wipe away my tears, and then wash my hair with the flowery death-water mixture, lie down beside the stems and leaves and wait for skin penetration, digestion, for the high to kick in, for the taste to settle and for the refreshing feeling of clean that the beauty of death would bring.