I’ve told the story of us so many times
it no longer sounds like truth.
The words have wilted,
petals curling inward
from too much sun.
Our love did not fade;
it turned to a blade instead,
cutting through the hands
that once tried to hold it.
Now I move carefully,
even through kindness,
as if every touch
remembers the sting.
I still find pieces of you
in my silence,
sharp enough
to draw blood
from memory.
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Author:
OA Poetry (
Offline) - Published: November 7th, 2025 04:58
- Comment from author about the poem: Written last night as part of a small poetry date.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments3
Funny how love can turn.
One minute it's rainbows, the next minute it's a restraining order.
Even the brightest colors can cast shadows when the light shifts. Love teaches us both.
When we flow the light from hat has turned to shadows also finds darkness turning into bright. Beautiful 🕊️🙏🏻
A duality of two souls filled with both light and dark that struggle with the eternal dance of finding balance.
Vivid and relatable this poem cuts deep. Love the imagery of petals that cut when dried. Memory a sharp shard as well. A fave
So glad the imagery reached you, pain and bloom intertwined.
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