Poet 11586

You know who you are

those girls with their
wild souls and,
wild eyes.
getting their dresses caught on
tree branches and hearts
wreaking havoc on those who've wronged them,
bottles of thorns and vinegar.
stars strewn through their hair
constellations resting on their skin
crimson lips and,
bloodstained fingers
rotting from the inside out
but flowers sprouting in their steps
tucking stones in their pockets for safekeeping,
like they tuck away secrets
whispering only to the trees
the wind sighing it's reply back