spring invaded winter

              confused buds fought battle to bloom

                only to be struck down

                        flattened and waterlogged

                              by the next surprise storm


                       kinship’s flower shared in a garden’s suffering

                              torn from the vine and scattered

                                    its paper-thin petals


                                                    as they lay shredded and fallen

                                                            to the wind

                                                                    yet again

                                                                      dead now

                                                                               in the wake

                                                                  of your last uncharacteristic


                                       march monsoon


          its like having an abusive lover, she remarked

              blows come unexpectedly

                   with no rhyme or reason

                        until one day you wake up

                            realizing that you, too

                                are done


               i dreamt of your aloneness

                     fretted about who would care for you

                          even imagined inviting you in to share our home

                               if the worst came to pass

 i have waited at your door

          to hear of your suffering

            to hold you as you cried your fears

              offering you the width and berth of alone time

                     in the hopes that you would know

                        where to turn          always         unconditionally


                 we carefully sealed the envelope

                    containing an anonymous gift

                           only meant to ease an unspoken burden

                             and in return

                                     you chose the blade

                                          to decimate this garden’s grace

                                                  and finally, i, too

                                                          am done


About lindalou5150

as exercise or exorcism, i write...for the eyes of others, for my eyes and heart only, for the love and the rage, i release the gamut of tell the truth and say what's often thought but not written...
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