Garden Of Mourning Glories

Walking on glass.

Trying to tiptoe through it.

Calculating which spot would hurt the least.

I was chasing the end of a tunnel.

An exit door, always behind me.

Turning back would be just as painful.

If I have to endure the pain, this way was more worth it now.

I was chasing something that would never exist.

Thinking he would change.

Not wanting me to walk on glass.

I expected him to get a broom and sweep it away.

One of these days, he will.

Thinking he could change.

I spent too long walking on glass.. to finally realize I should turn back.

As I make for the exit, he starts screaming.

“I’ll clean up the glass”

Just give him time.

I turned around back towards his voice. But he never did as he said, he just put more obstacles in the way.

I turned around, running on shards.

Desperate for this to end.

“Your selfish”

Feeling blood on the soles of my feet.

“You never cared”

The scars on my skin showing otherwise.

Reaching for the door.

I feel a cold hand around my legs, dragging me through the glass, my hands reaching out to grab the floor.

“Your almost there”

I wanted to belive.

But seeing that shiny red exit sign.

I knew.

I kicked at the hands dragging me, crawling back to the door.

Finally I reach it, the other side.

Finally released from this prison.

I might beable to live a real life.

Behind the door, I heard it temping me.

Hard to ignore.

But then my scars throb.

Reminding me of the pain I felt before.

Smooth pavement.

Red and green.

Controlling traffic.

I am but a bug.

Observing, watching, learning.

A cyclist group.

I wonder where they’re headed?

Are they buds? Getting coffee together?

A young lady and her dog.

She’s on her morning walk?

Wonder what she does for work..

It makes me feel so small.

I’ll never know these people who walk along me.

Maybe I should stop observing,

The peak of the mountain in arms reach.

Walking step paths,

While dreaming of touching the clouds.

Making the way through a maze of paths,

And mangled Thorns.

Just keep going, the peak is near.

But every new day, it seems farther away.

Learning how to navigate the paths,

I now know every inch of this mountain.

I’m more familiar with these cliffs,

then I am with the way my skin feels on my bones

This uncomfortable love.

The peak is too far to reach.

I march ahead but the stones move.

End of the finish line never staying in one place.

Soon I find myself tumbling over rocks.

Skin now stained with the color of passion.

Barley holding onto the edge.

Yet I carry on,

On my hands and knees.

I reach out a hand grasping towards a branch.

Fingers brushing against sharp thorns.

Pressing my finger prints into tiny blades of deceit.

This unbearable love.

Grasping onto thorns.

“Why am I doing this?”

I take a deep breath, and

I let go.

Then I hit the ground.

I felt the air leave my lungs as I slammed my back into the dense soil.

But soon I took a deep breath.

My fingers intertwined with the grass under them.

This time I didn't get up and started climbing the mountain again.

I could remember every ridge and corner of the cliffs.

Vast blanket of sapphire, surging as towers.

Crashing down,

Underneath, lurking with eyes of abyss.

Shiny Grey and white trailing behind.

Rows of pearly white death edging closer.

A glint of hope, a light rising from the rolls of blue.

A pulse in my body, torpedoing upwards.

Crashing into the air, stumbling.

A gust grabs me from underneath, stretching my wings.

Jaws of force forgotten.

The light engulfs me, a warmth that's short lived.

Eaten by blue fury again.

I saw a pretty bottle.

I toke a sip.

It made me sick.

I ignored it.

I drank your poison,

And I threw it up.

But you never held my hair back

Or gave me water when I puked.

But soon I had a taste for it,

I convinced myself it tasted sweet.

You just fed me your poison,

And left when I got sick.

I let you. I drank your poison,

Because of your pretty bottle.

But you forced me to drink his too.

But suddenly you toke

The poison away.

Toke my pretty bottle away.

And you acted as though there was no poison.

As light creeps away below the trees. I feel panic fill my body knowing the monsters would show face. Lustfull for my flesh and blood. My body urging me to hide away in my shelter, but I stay. Tears running down my face.

Though even as my body shakes… I stay still. My heart aching. I let the panic consume me but ignore it simultaneously. I watch the sun rest. I see the glowing eyes.

As they creep closer, I shut my eyes. Feeling their hands grabbing my feet, brittle nails dig into my skin. I take a breath in as teeth take their place into my rib cage. A sense of peace fills my head as a warm trickle runs down my stomach.

My love, a precious gift to me he is,

Our love feels so unfair, that it can't bloom.

Though I am still waiting for his sweet kiss.

They say it’s wrong, but his stare makes me swoon.

Locked away, my sin is hidden from all,

Mommy knows best, for her beloved son,

Suffocating grasp makes me want to bawl.

A bond that is starting to come unspun.

If I was not crafted to love a man,

Then why shall this love be unbearable,

Just wanting to run away when I can.

Keeping this act up is so terrible.

If this love is forbidden, I don’t care,

Walled off from any form of delight

A fog of misery lurks above

A smell of iron in my lungs

Now clouded with sorrow

Color is no longer seen in my eyes

White and shiny.

Reflecting light, liquid pouring in.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Filling to the rim,

Trickling down the sides.

My hate overflows the mug.

Like bitter coffee,

It stains my teeth.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Naive, like a trickle of water running through the grass,

Flowing into a puddle.

Then I hatch, from my clear goey sack.

Swimming freely, now out of my bubble.

Growing tiny legs, I kick to the surface.

And what I see is many other frogs just like me.

I find my momma and look for papa, but he doesn’t quite look the same.

He shines in brighter colors and bold black stripes.

But he is still a frog and he can love me just the same.

But overtime, he made me sick,

His toxin staining me.

But he was just trying to share his bright pretty colors…

But when he left, I felt relieved,

His toxins and color would finally leave me.

But as I grew I gravitated to the colors, even though they always hurt me.

Again and again, untill now it’s all I am.

All I’ll ever be.

Watercolors painting the sky,

Clouds reaching a hand out,

Beckoning me to fly.

Sorrowed eyes gazing down,

I carry their pain.

I am absent.

Absent minded.

Absent bodied.

I carry,

Her dwindling soul.

I carry on.

Light departing.

Colors waning,