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Jan 2019
Untouched places. I cannot keep happiness for myself. I have to share it with everyone. A pure place becomes poisoned by their footprints. Memories of them cover the ground in the form of weeds. I could try to tear them from the dirt but what is the use? I bring someone new to **** them for me but no! Their roots are tangled. How will I rip them out now? I try again. If these weeds were flowers this garden would be beautiful. My once safe place is safe no longer. The weeds, they will grow. I will lie down and disappear within them. They were good memories once. When I was young I never understood why my mother plucked them from the ground. When I was young I thought everything beautiful. My mother is still beautiful. When I was fourteen I started hurting myself. When I was fourteen I knelt next to my mother. We compared our ***** hands. Mine look more like hers with every year. Her weeds grew at home. Home was never a pure place. I let the weeds grow and when I left I set them on fire. She envied me for this. She does not know all the places I must pick the weeds from. She does not know I find safety anywhere but there. She does not know I plant the poison. She does not know I invite them there. I do not want the false image of safety. I bring the danger so it comes at no surprise. Imagine your beautiful garden, cared for for years and there! Where did it come from? No. I hate surprises. I know where my weeds grow from. Those **** footprints. But whatever. I'll find another pure place. Maybe this time only my footprints will cover the ground, flowers growing from each one.
Sarah Foster
Written by
Sarah Foster  21/F/New Jersey
(21/F/New Jersey)   
1.1k
       Colm Istoirm and Fawn
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