Dead Flowers

[aprilrain]

A fistful of dead flowers
In my hand, more under my feet
I only ever crush and trample them
Can’t you see the path that
Extends far behind me?
All those flowers…
Pinched, bruised, and crushed
Yep- they’re all mine.

See the pure flower-once within
Stolen, soiled by evil hands
Familiar petals fall among it
Corrupting my vision
I look for something lost
So I follow the stream
Of Petals carried by tears
Leading me to a black rose

Dark petals offered with a kiss
And a heavy cost-my spirit
A touch, the petals fall
Scents, sounds overwhelm,
Imprison my heart and breaks me
All my defenses, as if any were left
Carried upon that one
Singular burdened stem.

The bouquet in my hands,
And a veil to conceal truth.
Petals fall before me
And I learn that I am
Expected to walk upon them
And so I do and I never quit.
Familiarity inside me breeds
Infected blankets of flowers

I attempt to count them all
But now they smother me
Odorous winds choke me
I grow tired of holding on
And I long for the end
Of this trail of dead flowers
A deep sigh of resignation
I close my eyes and walk

I turn back, welcome the
Traces that evoke the hurt.
Ask the same questions,
Follow the ways I always
Cling to.
The path
Of dead flowers

[Tir Asleen]

aprilrain,
This is a lovely poem. Thank you for sharing this. I have felt this way too.
Tir

[FainsFamily]

aprilrain

Your poem is very beautiful and full of feeling. I keep coming back to reread it. Thank you for sharing it.

Fain

[aprilrain]

thank you for reading and for your kind words.