Thorns and All

By: VSH

I would have eaten the rose,  

Thorns and all. 

Consumed it into my blood, 

Until I was the one painting flowers red. 

A deck of cards is in my will, 

But even assuming the role, they wouldn’t adhere. 

My hands are scarlet with blame for that.  

I hear the tears of the thirteen-year-old girl I never was. 

I watch each strip of her gently fall to the floor. 

She’d have never been okay, 

For I wouldn’t permiss the absurd. 

If she looked at me tearfully in despair, screaming,  

The thorns will hurt, 

I’d have opened her jaws and shoved the roses down. 

Teach me to dream, teach me to love, 

Is what chorused on her will. 

But I cannot teach what I do not know. 

When I was her age, my mother was kind, and people were cruel. 

Now her mother is crueler, and maybe she’ll learn. 

At thirteen, so desperate for a rose, 

I tore up my legs and watched the crimson blue fall to the floor.  

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Inspiration pulled from:

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll