Teenangst Drama
Obsession grows like a weed
In a beautiful garden.
Or at least I think I am beautiful.
Still no bee to pollinate my flower,
Nor a humming bird to suckle at my nectar.
Not even a flower of my own origin will impregnate me.
I cannot bend to the sun's light for it shines none upon me.
Cannot reach for a drop of water to quench my thirst.
How I yearn for it so dreadfully
Eventually I will be plucked,
And put aside to never be looked at again.
As if anyone looks at me anyway.
Please make it slow,
So I can feel the life fade,
Or at least feel a little human contact.
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