Disclaimer: This poem was first posted on my Medium account on February 1st, 2018. The poem and accompanying image are both my original work.
Zipping up her flowing skirt,
tying the laces of her floral shoes,
and painting her lips blood red
before placing the flower crown
atop her wild curls…
She takes a steadying breath
and faces the world
despite the past
rooted firmly
along her spine.
That one said, “I didn’t mean
what I said.
I
Love
You.”
She smiled
despite the snake-like vine
digging its thorns
deeper into
her heart.
This one said, “I didn’t want
to hurt you.
You just made me
So
Upset.”
She bowed her head
and apologized,
even as the shadow of his fingers
blossomed an angry reminder
around her throat.
Another one said, “What do you mean
‘Forced?’
Look at that skirt.
You
Wanted
It.”
She becomes silent
despite the ache blooming
where his hands had gripped
her legs.
You say, “I love the flowers
in your hair.
Want to grab
a drink?”
ignorant
and unwilling
to consider looking past
her beautiful camouflage
to what she wishes she could
Forget.
Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think, and feel free to share with credit to me. <3
~For anyone wondering, the image is an edited combination of a self portrait that I took on a timer and a photo I took at the Nan Elliot Memorial Rose Garden in Alton, Illinois.
