I thought dying would
be less pain than lying
in your bed of black roses.
Your words cradled in dry petals
weaved a spell that kept me
bound in this house of flames.
I felt the thorns of your scorn
pierce all I believed until
I couldn’t carry another scar.
Desperate to be me
I carved a tiny spot in life
where I was free to bleed.
Goodbye grew deep roots
until I was strong enough
to speak the words.
With you gone this house
is now a home free of the
thorning of black roses.
©Susie Clevenger 2014
Comments
This stanza really struck me:
Goodbye grew deep roots
until I was strong enough
to speak the words.
- See more at: http://confessionsofalaundrygoddess.blogspot.com/2014/05/goodbye-grew-among-black-roses.html#sthash.2pkgOB5D.dpuf
'thorning of black roses' let alone to write. i hope it was as cathartic as it seemingly reads to me.
congrats and gracias Susie Clevenger
where I was free to bleed..." you know I've been there, and everywhere this poem travels, Susie--I'm glad you found the strength to be yourself.