Hanauso is a fictional Japanese ailment where flowers grow out of the neck when a beloved one is on a lying spree. The victim is unable to talk until he/she is redeemed by the truth.
No tender roses grow on me, I smell no divine scent, Prickly thorns twirl round my neck, curls and bents. The roses with scarlet crowns sprout from my vein, With each prick of a thorn, I cry out aloud in pain. Deeper the thorn, redder are the stains of blood, When it touches the spine, I see a new rose bud. As each lie unfolds, as you mask a lie with another, I embrace your reality, I pay no heed to any other. When in agony, in doubt, in denial and in sorrow, My long dark nights end in an unhappy tomorrow. A new day, a new lie you unleash with much ease, With tearful eyes, your twisted whims I appease. From crimson, each rose turns dark red, grows sere, They choke and kill, they spread no joy, or no cheer. With each passing moment, weaker grows my voice, In breaking my heart, you make a conscious choice. I press against the prickly thorns, closer and closer, Hoping that only death would bring me some closure. Wild and untrimmed, a lone rose is now a garden, Until the lies cease, I'll carry an intolerable burden. With petals as words and rose stalks as my limbs, I sport an armor of red roses like wounded kings. Weeding out protests that choke my bruised core, I'll keep watering my garden 'til I breathe no more.
© Copyright: Leah Chrestien. May 2021. The post Death by Flowers | Poetry first appeared on The Ecstatic Storyteller. The author reserves the right to the content. No reproduction of content in any form is permitted without the prior consent of the author.
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