Covered in dirt,

I'm sweating,

burying your legs.

I tie you up,

straighten you out.

Willing you to grow,

but knowing you will die.

Encountering a flaw

and wanting

to kill you

because you ruin the aesthetics.

Be perfect.

I took you in,

taking time out of my life.

The least you could do is be perfect.

Every morning I feed you,

give you water,

but all you do is wilt.

I knew it was a lost cause.

I didn't know what you wanted!

The reason I wake

so early and before the birds,

is to wonder,

can I take a life?

Can I take your life?

Shall I take your life?

Can you decide for me?

Or will you just sit there

and wilt and wonder?

I see you there with legs buried,

and I wonder where I went wrong.

Is there such a thing as caring too much?

Too much water? Too much food?

Too much love?

That night I take a weapon,

and I stand above you

The room is lit in red LED light.

It's a murder scene.

I hold the scissors against your neck.

Snip!

No regrets.

I dump you outside.

Days, weeks, and months go by,

and suddenly,

at the turn of autumn,

you surround my house with your family.

I close my curtains,

but I see your silhouette.

Soon, you barge into the house.

I can't escape.

My legs turn into roots.

My hair becomes petals.

I am now you.

You are now me.

You press the scissors against my neck.

Snip!