Ichor bursts from broken cells beneath the lavender bruises that lace my skin
Blackness seeps through the golden fluid that once consumed me
What made up my veins is now mere blood stains.
The residue of rust from your dull knife infects every laceration it left behind
Because it hurt me, to love you, in the special way I did.
Every time I'd see your face i could never tell whether the joy could overpower the pain that never left your side.
Your body and your soul seemed covered in needles forged from rose petals.
You smelt so sweet, but you hurt so bad.
The beginning of our love was godly and made of roses which slowly rotted in the summer sun and soon smelled of the sickly sweet magnolias that suffocated my every breath.
The clear salty air of that tiny beach town was not enough to bring my lungs the equilibrium they needed to thrive.
But it was enough to bring me to my senses
It was enough to wake me from my blissful ignorance
So i left with reluctance in my head, which leaked through my eyes in tears made of ocean water.
I took our love and made it my own;
a garden I tended to with the greatest of care,
for the fragile rose petals could not withstand another storm like you,
and it blossomed,
with the force of a thousand suns exploding in the fall,
it blossomed just to prove you wrong.
