POETRY

the lost rose

 

out of the ground she bloomed 

with rose petals yearning for succulence  

sweet child 

she danced and fell to the floor 

curled her body into a ball 

and made herself real small 

folded her forearms into her elbows 

forehead to her feet 

they liked her better this way 

they liked it when she scraped her skin against the pavement 

broke it until it was raw and to the white meat 

she bled out until she was nice and dry and empty and simple 

until she was their puppet

until she was nothing

they liked to tug at her strings 

like it was a violin 

fiddle their fingers in between 

the spaces 

and watch her eyes roll back into pearly whites 

they liked to hear her teeth grind themselves into chalk 

put their fingers in her mouth like fishhooks 

and draw her cheeks up into a smile 

she felt like nothing more than a flower in the cracks of a sidewalk 

waiting to be stepped on or plucked at or picked apart 

pick one petal they love me

pick another they love me not 

she wondered what roses would tell her whether or not she loved herself 

did they die the moment they left the earth 

did they disappear the moment they were torn from their mother’s breast 

uprooted and assigned a new role to play

a new home to lay their heads at night 

one where they would never be found

she thought to herself 

would she ever be found? 

would she ever seen?