It starts-
My footsteps
enter the rose-garden,
it withers
with every step ahead.
My feet bleed,
every step contorted.
With glass splinters
piercing my feet,
the Earth cracks open.
Turning like a gyre,
I rise from my blood.
It felt like yesterday
when I was lost in
a whirlpool,
a sea of regrets.
It was only yesterday
that your words churned
in my stomach.
I spit the venom out
and wash my tongue
till it bleeds.
Scars deeply carved,
your bitter sweet nothings
poison me.
Alas, you’re still there
and I am forced to
carry you.
Till death do us part.
It ends;
and my footsteps
enter the rose-garden.
Artwork by: Alois Kalvoda
