Fleur

i heard once, long ago:

“If you tear a rose from its roots

Then the rose screams"

i live in the vivid dividends of indifference

for i’ve seen what Rose dreams at night

When her rose-coloured glasses

Bear witness to a darkness that blankets

The bruised skin on the fruits of her imagination

Ripe for a requiem

The acidic soils Rose stemmed from

Unfit to bloom anything except

Shadows of a doubt

Petals bathing quietly under a dark moon

Rose persisted

Rose wilted

Rose tried germinating

The seeds of her imagination

To the soils of a faraway land

Where soles of bare feet

Bore fruitful souls underneath

Healthy, loved, nurtured flora

Resting in a bed of flowers

Beautiful and free

Rose would never flourish

Deficient of love and light

The problem was with the seed

Transplanting Rose to a better place was impossible

Her roots ran too deep

i tried to, time and time again

i persisted

And i too wilted endlessly

Until i remembered hearing long ago

Words of sage wisdom:

“If you tear Rose from her roots

Then Rose screams”