kill the rose
I was there
changing my skin
thought i’ve thrown away all the dirt
but oh good earth
i am still much filth now and then
the oxygen stab me
straight to the deepest of my wounded soul
i was there, naked
with my foolish rage
insufficient to cover my shame
though,
i stood and still i breathe and still i run
i run and run and run
to find the rose and kill it
oh good Lord
i’m killing myself
“I have been silly,” she said to him, at last. “I ask your forgiveness. Try to be happy…”
“Of course I love you,” the flower said to him. “It is my fault that you have not known it all the while. That is of no importance. But you — you have been just as foolish as I. Try to be happy… let the glass globe be. I don’t want it any more.”
“Don’t linger like this. You have decided to go away. Now go!”
For she did not want him to see her crying. She was such a proud flower…
For she did not want him to see her crying. She was such a proud flower…
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