Lying To the Roses
Id be lying if i said i didn't miss you.
That this home once a home now an empty shell, a reflection of the husk of a tenant surviving inside.
A half broken shell, combating the waves, damaged and worn by the salt of the seas.
I'd be lying if i said the scent of your skin doesnt linger in my mind, a depressing perfume, the ghosts of what could have been.
A bitterness cut into every cake i will ever make, a sour sting from the memories we once shared,before they were memories, when they were the moments of our love story, carved in fondant with sugar hearts and candy kisses.
Before Big Ben came crashing down around me in a quake of realization, that I will never look at roses the same.
Stabbed by their thorns too many times, their deep green claws digging into my heart.
What dangers hide behind such beauty.
I'd by lying if i said your name doesnt bounce around my head, dancing on my lips, begging to be spoken. Now a dirty word playing on my toungue and sliding down my teeth.
Id be lying if i said i don't love you anymore, that the anger had ripped through me and cut you from my cracked stone heart.
That the roses don't tempt me anymore.
Copyright © Tammy Ferguson | Year Posted 2019
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