Garden

from the upcoming poetry collection The Maiden in the Tower

by Kate Gough

The machine wires start to look like vines growing up above,

as I grow roots into my hospital bed.

Flowers grow from my chest,

poppies in November chill. I am hooked up to oxygen,

it makes my nose crack and bleed inside.

But it helps me breathe.

All antidotes come with a “read well before use”

warning label,

it commands a payment of the flesh.

I suffer to survive.

I survive to suffer.

As the secret garden grows, so does the misery.

But the price to pay to live, it is worth it,

for the memories.