the flower in the windowsill had flourished

unfolded petals whispered beauty within ones gaze

inviting each passerby into its flesh

telling tales of supieriority, worth and success

slowly pulling one in its trap

closer and closer

deeper and deeper

harder and harder

capturing one in lullabies of euphoria

because the flower, first noticed

discovered and used innocently

is a drug of silent exhilaration

the thrill of making the pain go away

of feeling a rise in charge

you are in control

it whispers

I make the shame and hurt

turn to ashes beneath me

its sweet

the taste dripping down ones throat

youre drinking bottled love now

you dont need others to find away to drive away your loneliness

you just need to find a way to talk to it

its sweet

until one sees that some plants

are meat eaters too