I, Rose

crickets sing of love
in the deep blue sea
for storms are nothing more
than a mark upon our horizon

my freckles spread like galaxies
and my skin akin to the desert -
endless boundaries of stretching pale land
i colonize the barren expanses of my lips
with stains, the color of blood sinking into carpets

my eyes are blinded by
masks of chemical imbalance -
mental illness it the new popularity,
the ones who come next find themselves imprisoned 

the new trend is depression -
middle-school students hide anxiety behind
short-shorts and obnoxious laughs
and the older ones choke on anxiety

poised to spring,
adults feed on greed and grief
while parents wither the years away
as our generation tries desperately to detox.

The End

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