Bloodroots
I see you're back again
to haunt me like a tumour within
each time growing that little bit more to remind me
of the terror and pain.
No matter how much I try to scrub away
your squalid presence refuses to fade
from the place you adopted to keep her alive
in my thoughts, in my mind every day I try
to conceal your metallic stench but I find that you thrive on my fear of being unveiled
to the world, to myself
I ask what there is left
of this person I observe in front of me I see
you feasting on the cracks of the clay
in the way you coursed through her veins every day
I am living on the edge of existence with she
who betrayed our holy pledge, now she stays
encased in her premature grave with you by her side
as her storyteller, her guide to the truth on display
your red rivers like bloodroots* for me
come what may.
* a woodland plant of eastern North America with white flowers and a red root.
By Michelle Makepeace
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