Remember.
Things fall apart and meld themselves together again,
Stitch by stitch or staple by staple.
Sometimes they must be cauterized.
How far gone was the memory?
How slowly is the present sinking?
You must not look back.
Behind you, every sun is setting and
Every cloud is red, a warning,
But you are not looking up.
You are not looking ahead.
Below you, old memories rise
From the cracked earth and take up
Your field of vision.
What does sadness look like personified?
Hair the same brown as mud off a fresh grave,
Eyes so watery, just looking into them,
You might drown.
You think you might have that shirt.
You must not have the shirt.
Do you understand?
You must not.
YOU ARE READING
Bent Roses
Thơ caBent Roses is a poetry collection about familial devotion, love, and misery. It is about those nights when everyone gets home late and the first thing they say to each other is good morning. It is about believing in another person when you shouldn't...
