Or so the Story Goes
A Survivor’s Story
Roses are red, violets are blue
Or so the story goes
Yet I’ve seen red in blood once shed
By slamming fists, dislodging teeth
Just like the rain, they poured and they flowed
Twisting flesh into a twilight hue
When it rains, it pours
Or so the story goes
I’ve found violets to be of a blue that blooms
Across battered skin and scars that stung still
While eyes once white, turned a scarlet shade
Inflamed by one hand and many a sleepless night
Ignorance is bliss
Or so the story goes
Like when a dozen roses were gifted in regret
Its red petals splayed to adorn the bed
As if an omen, for better days
Though soon healing wounds, turned a violet blue
Live and learn
Or so the story goes
No longer the fool, I’ve pondered and waited
Not for the rain, to go away
But for my feet, to carry me
About the Creator
Shequinah Nanshanapa
Writer of fiction and of lives lived and imagined. For those interested in entertaining a conversation and sharing ideas, you can reach me here:
IG: @Lanansha | FB: Rayanh Shequinah Nansha
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