I traveled back to that fateful night, so long ago now, where you fell away from me, fell to your death into the abyss.
An erratic dagger, recklessly flailing in every direction, tore and slashed through the delicate petals until nothing remained.
I was the dagger--now I am the rose. Pale pastel peach, overflowing with thick, honeylike nectar--locked behind an iron gate.
I am ready. I wait. I will wait, if need be, until every petal has fallen and the snow buries me underground.
Bring loving hands, or bring crushing blows. Either way, I am here.
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I miss "hearing" your voice...
ReplyDeleteHope you're doing well and will continue to write more poetry...it really moves me...
beautiful...
ReplyDeleteMiss you...
xxoo
Not sure how else to reach you so thought I'd comment here. I received a message from you (I think) through an alternate website, but I can't read it. Can you email me direct? I sure do miss you but at the same time, hope you are doing what you need to do and growing during this time away.
ReplyDeleteMuch Love,
Mercedes