Wallflower

Pressure, Pressure, Pressure
Between two antiseptic sheets
Like the corners of her room
Folding in
Swallowing whole
And the paint seems duller than before
Not that they notice
Pressure, Pressure, Pressure
Heat seals her plastic coffin
The final preparation
Something's missing
They start to notice
But all the chairs are full
Except that one by the window
(We don't talk about that.)
Pressure, Pressure, Pressure
Hung up on the wall
Just like the flowers she picked as a child
They notice her face staring back at them
The flowers died because they were pretty
All dressed in black now that she's gone
They say she's pretty too.