do you remember
how we used to grow roses?
you told me
that the thorns were sharp
but it was beauty
everyone was seeking.
my bones are made of those roses you sent.
they have strewn my ribs
and grown over my heart,
making it bleed with every breath i take.
my garden used to be your temple.
we would kiss under the moon,
listening to the voluptuous songs of these roses.
now even moonlight
has abandoned me.
oh, how could you be so cruel?
you love was the most beautiful flower
but now it’s just the weedery i can see.
i’m pulling it one by one,
demolishing it from my soul
like your words out of my memory.
you know, the feeling is fading away
my heart was seared with grief,
then it was anger
but now it’s none.
and those roses are growing up again.
they are mounting over all misery
you have unleashed.
and so am i.
— you have left this garden untented but i can foster it myself // a.s.