like a punch in the stomach

                                            last night my heart swelled up and began to get crushed inside of my lungs;
                                            i get so impatient sometimes, knowing i’ll have to keep pruning myself
                                            back until you’re ready. sometimes i feel like some blooming flower, and i’m
                                            screaming at my petals saying,  "fuck!, it’s not safe to open yet!"
                                            so i can sleep with my throat burning into knots, swallowing everything
                                            you don’t have the heart to hear yet.