It’s like I want to catch you
In an act you’ve never performed
I analyze your words
Your tone
I’ll place you in a narrative
I’ve long outgrown
The show must go on
A woman scorned
Roses laced in natural thorn
It’s wounds drip into wooden boards
until you can’t take it anymore
The sound of ever present dripping
In the dead of night
You’ll leave me behind
Realize I’m not worth the work
of mopping blood from the floor.
But that’s not me anymore
I strive for more
And landed with you
You!
You kiss my healing scars
Hand me roses from the grocery store
Absent of thorns.