We exist as ratched mirrors of each other
as I am all you were,
while you are all I could become,
yet you are everything I strive to avoid.
You taught me how to garden
about wildflowers and azaleas
and what they all mean,
yet now when I look at wildflowers all I see is an unwanted extension of you.
You want to "repair" something beyond fixing
tell me,
once you stomp on a rose is it still supposed to flourish?
Or is it supposed to die?
Well I'm telling you: You have no more jurisdiction in my garden.
What once grew as black eyed susan's
is long gone.
All that grows now is ivy and aconite, and all the sunlight in the world cannot fix this.
So when you stop on by with your wildflowers trying so desperately to make amends
I will say to you:
"Save them for my funeral, but don't bother showing up."
YOU ARE READING
Half English / Half Cynicism
Poetrythis is a collection of my original poetry, and I hope you enjoy. I explore the themes of belonging, LGBTQ+, longing, and loss. Thank you for giving my writing a read and a chance :).
