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
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