Poetry

I found an old USB with a bunch of old word documents on it. There was an entry to a writing competition I didn’t win. Not winning doesn’t bother me in the slightest, but I was rather fond of my piece. Poetry is something that means a lot to me, and it means even more when I can share it. This year I have been blessed with having HCWO to share my thoughts and articles on, and so I’d like to use this platform to share this poem inspired by the toxicity of some relationships:

Roses

Your touch was an acid

that soothed my tender skin

and tore up all my confidence.

Your eyes were a child’s laser toy

that lit up my life

and cut through me like paper.

Your smile was a blade

that shaved away my secrets

and stained the carpet red.

Your voice was a siren

that screamed at me to shut up

and silenced my world.

You were a poison

that smelt like roses

and burned like fire.

Now my skin is raw,

I’m scared of the dark

and voices whisper to me.

I’m so filled with secrets,

yet I can barely speak.

And voices scream at me

I am covered in cuts and scrapes.

My lungs are irrevocably damaged.

And I crave the smell of roses.

• art
• creativity
• expression
• poetry
• roses
• words