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Red Rose

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The jagged scars of my disquieted mind,

Jolted from the asphyxia of apathy,

Begin to bleed.

The despair-born disease leaks

Into my thirsty, eager veins,

Searing a pathway into the

Tenderness of my heart.

The burning pressure builds,

The pulsing heat unrelenting,

I ache to release it,

To cut through my flesh

And mingle blood with air,

Running down, cooling my fevered skin.

Move. Move. Itching urge to move.

Run. Run. Forever blindly running.

Drive. Drive. Driving through the

Cascades of cleansing rain -

Streetlight shadow procession -

Mocking my desperate striving

At deliverance.

Faster. Faster. Never to outrun

The demons that jeer and scold.

I cannot cry.

Something stops me.

I scream for relief

That will not come.

I pray for tears

That will not flow.

My feelings buried in the depths,

Ambushed by fear,

Trapped inside an

Impenetrable wall.

So instead I cry

Rose red tears

On the unforgiving pavement.

Streetlights flicker and cease to shine.

I am alone in my numbness.

Me.

And the rain.

And the proof

My heart still beats.

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