The Ruptured Rose
are like a voiceless drift of petals
from some ruptured rose.
Innocence is a thing you never knew you had
until you lost it.
Until the sun is setting
over the city that was ours.
Like a sunset
fighting for its final glaring breath,
the memories of us as children,
thinking we were grown,
burn bright over every inch of this landscape
that is giving over to darkness.
We reached that milestone
that we were always aimed at.
But the year that we could finally say
that we had been in each other’s lives
just as long as we had not been,
you dawned a torch
and set fire to everything…
Every inch of what we spent all those years building.
And you said it was because you wanted a “new life”.
You told yourself it was justified.
And you re-wrote the story of “us”.
It is the killing of something so precious
that has turned these un-remembered heavens black.
But I have not forgotten them.
They haunt me in the darkness
and I sit by the flicker of the flame
that keeps on saying
that you’ll come back again,
knowing that just like everything else
that people have promised me in life,
that too may be a lie.
We are separated now
by a parapet of hatred.
And behind that sorrow.
And behind that the fear
that I cannot live this life without you.
Because the truth that is still contained
within the pistil of my heart
were the lightness of my life.