The yellow bells I watered everyday Is starting to fill up my lungs It's flowers blooms and constricts it.  While the roots clench my heart. It's scent fooling my brain Recalling things we never did- We would never do, and my heart- Lamenting on something I can't have. The butterflies that fluttered, Are now rumbling and hostile. And the faint pink blush Became hot and feverish. If I tell you about the growing plant, Would you prune it, Or you'll just let it either away? Along with me...