deepundergroundpoetry.com

red bloom

There are roses blooming
beneath my skin
like bruises

The truth has always made
a liar of me

She asked me if I could ever
forgive myself
for not being perfect

I said, no
Iím no good at forgiveness
though Iíve been trying
to staunch the war inside me
that bleeds out like ink
and paints the pavement
in wordless poetry
the colour of my tears

There are roses blooming
beneath my skin
like bruises
and my bones
are breaking through again
because Iíve forgotten how to eat
Iíve forgotten how to breathe
Iíve forgotten how to be
human

She asked me if I could ever
forgive myself
for not being perfect

I said, no
Iím no good at forgiveness
though Iíve been trying
to staunch the war inside
Iím not yet on the right side
of winning

© Indie Adams 2014
Indie
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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