The Weed

Her lips are the worms that eat the flowers
Shapeless grey things chewing, feeding
Consuming the life that is left

The Weed sings honeyed hymns into the wind
Luring the butterflies into her fingers
Grinding their wings and nipping at their crushed bodies

Her countless arms have strangled the earth
Poison ivy decorates her hair
The Weed drains the life from me

Can't kill her with poison
Can't kill her at all
The Weed lurks in my sweet little garden
Waiting for me to water her