The Way We Are Now

Plants grew out of
the dirt in our bruised lungs and
up through our fractured rib cages -
their unfurling leaves
peered out into the sunlight

And those thick roots sucked up all
the nutrients that were left,
leaving only soot
that ran through our fingers
at the first sign of
danger

(That's why we've become
the way we are now,
I guess)

But sometimes I
like to think that
our rib cages are made of weeds-
dandelions entangled together, or
tendrils wrapped around bones
and resilient when crushed,
they'll scream, "Don't you
dare give up now.
Don't you
dare.
We will protect
this heart,
we swear."