Petals drip from a dying rose;
Bloody teardrops pepper the ground.
Cut crystal catches them, turning sparkling water pink.
Blush of a virgin on her wedding night,
Dirty stem fades to brown.
A cloud passes over the moon,
Shadows lengthening through the window.
The last petal drops;
My last tear falls;
Into the basin below.
Would that I could collect all the tears you made me cry.
If only - so I could drown you in them.
Author notes
For Michael. I predict you'll be divorced before you're 23. You know, your girl looks pretty spry...hope you don't wear her out too fast. Used ones always break sooner or later.
Written September 21st, 2006
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Yes, he's a cunt, Rossy. This was my last fuck you. And I really hope he reads it.
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Yeah, I read this a few minute ago. Amazing. It feels stream-of-conscious, which makes it very powerful and impacting. I love your poetry like whoa!
And Michael's basically a cunt. I know you seem (or seemed?) really attached, but seriously, he's not good for you at all. From what I've heard of him, he's not a good guy at all. But you're a good girl. And by good, I mean fucking aamzing. -
I was caught up in where you were taking me in this work; I appreciate the honesty of your last line. I am sorry for your pain and anger.
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