New year, new me
Just not in the way I thought
I stare at the tarnished plant beds
And the tools dropped on the ground
I look at the mess we made
Words splattered on the walls
Seeds slowly spilling out
In the same motion as my tears
I still hear the echoes of my voice
Bouncing off the glass
Gloves would have never prepared me
For how dirty I feel right now
A part of me has died tonight
I took a rake to the heart
I catch a glimpse of my shards
Now mixed in with the dirt
I'll never get that heart back
And yet I can still feel it ache
How does one continue living
Once a part of them has died?
YOU ARE READING
Flowering
PoetryA poetry chapbook written by Rachelle Andrea. Seven new poems, each representing a different stage of life. Sprinkled in plant imagery, this book starts off with a poem consisting of a reminiscent ramble about childhood and ends with a poem about pr...
