Yours truly, the weed

By Oscar O’Neill-Pugh

False glory,

Lies and deceit,

I’m falling in love,

With things that don’t exist.

But just for this one time,

To me, everything is real.

Can I be him?

The only flower.

Someone you call,

Your every hour.


He is the flower,

I am the weed.

Why can’t I blossom?

No matter how hard I plead.


I can’t help it.

I’m drawn to you,

Like a moth to a flame.

You are the hunter,

My heart is your game.


I’m just an animal,

Stuck in a trap,

Waiting for the day

That you’ll love me back.


Image by Anna.