Purge

I pour the source of my pain down the drain Doubled over I purge the muck from my mind stars spilling from my eyes shining in the soapy froth as I scrub the sink clean of the remnants of rancid dreams hopes that grew moldy hanging onto them too long far past their expiration date How little there is left of me now I may float away like a balloon in the breeze The scent of the flowers I bought for myself makes me sick their petals framing faces of mocking monsters Cruel carnations Dastardly daisies “Pathetic!” they say with disdain “Alone!” they sing in perfect harmony harassing me with the one word that harrows my heart most of all I thought only roses had thorns I pluck each and every one tossing the empty stems in the bin along with the vase I arranged them in I’ll likely never need it again