Dark Crimson
Flowing from the
Small Half Crescent
On the palm of my hand

I Couldn't Stop
The pain that keep
Banging At My Window
A half crescent wasn't helping

Trying To Breathe
I'm surely drowning

This isn't helping.

thin lines cover
pale smooth skin
releasing crimson tears
and taking the pain away

let the rain wash
the sin from my
body and the clutter
from my mind

L e t  i t  e n d  w h e r e  i t  i s

Thickets of roses grew on the side of our shattered home
In beautiful planters my sisters and I painted
Messy little hands covered in primary colors
Mixed all together to make masterpieces only our mother appreciated

I t  W a s  A  S u m m e r  F u l l  O f  T e a c u p  R o s e s

For once we had something that we would never have again
An actual home we could call our own
School after school, home after home

I t  W a s  A  Y e a r  F u l l  O f  T e a c u p  R o s e s

The soft pitter patter of rain on our tin roof
Was my only solace from the pain
That followed those dark rain clouds in through the window
On those beautiful summer days

I t  W a s  A  L i f e  F u l l  O f  T e a c u p  R o s e s

yellow as the morning sun
these flowers are considered
weeds

when I was younger
i would make
wishes on dandelions

i would wish
for simple things
like a good day
or thunderstorms
that would last
all night

dandelions grew all
over the play ground
of my childhood

did you know that
you can write on
brick with
dandelions

i used to
write my dreams
with those flowers

yellow as the morning sun
to me dandelions are more
t h a n  j u s t  u s e l e s s  w e e d s