Poem: You can't repair a broken garden.


[Image Description: An illustration of a wilted flower on a light purple background]

Poem by Mia Robinson

Content Warning: connotations of sexual assault


You can't repair a broken garden.

As it happened the grass of my skin stopped thriving

Instead, it shriveled and froze and died.

The vines which already were a veil on my heart- tightened

Even with its aggressive pulsating, it still couldn’t have defied

The capturing hold on my whole body, and now the garden was grieving


The efflorescing daisies which stood with such tranquillity 

Within the blades of grass on my thighs, 

Deteriorated and decayed into a stone-cold grave

Alongside the corpse of my innocence, soothed by my empty cries

But nothing would ever bring them back- nothing could ever undo the trespassing of my skin


Crimson rose petals dropped to the ground- they became lifeless

As an invasive swarm of barbed brambles stormed, 

And crushed them, demanding the ownership of my arms

Tightening around my wrists as they cut into and malformed 

My hands- the land where the lilies bloomed, but now;


I had no power 

And my garden was dead.



Hey! I'm Mia. I am extremely passionate about all kinds of writing and have ambitions of becoming an author in the future. With the experiences I have with my own mental health I hope to help others to cope through hard times by expressing them. I try to be kind and supportive to everyone around me and hope for happiness for everyone.