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whiskeydippedflowerPoems
Every poem I wrote, I wrote for you; To try and erase The wounds you left. Today I am writing for me, Because I have realized That these wounds will never Disappear. They will stay. They will scar. And they will be beautiful. They will be gashes In my flower petal skin Sealed with gold, Lacing me back together. They will spill sunlight And music And all the venom That you have filled me with Will dissolve. I will be new. I will be fresh. I will grow new Flower petal skin. There is no more whiskey Left in my blood; There is no more reason To beg you to come home. I am not a child, I am A woman king; A flower who has been Whiskey dipped. And, regardless, I have bloomed.
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Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 1:27 AM UTC
The Tale of the Whiskey Dipped Flower
Every poem I wrote, I wrote for you; To try and erase The wounds you left. Today I am writing for me, Because I have realized That these wounds will never Disappear. They will stay. They will scar. And they will be beautiful. They will be gashes In my flower petal skin Sealed with gold, Lacing me back together. They will spill sunlight And music And all the venom That you have filled me with Will dissolve. I will be new. I will be fresh. I will grow new Flower petal skin. There is no more whiskey Left in my blood; There is no more reason To beg you to come home. I am not a child, I am A woman king; A flower who has been Whiskey dipped. And, regardless, I have bloomed.
whiskeydippedflower
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whiskeydippedflower
Aug 31, 2016
Aug 31, 2016 at 1:27 AM UTC
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