i had a rose bush when i was younger.
i grew it myself.
and maybe i did it
because i wanted something to hold pride in
because i wanted to take care of something other
than myself
because it gave me a purpose.
i would grow this damn rose bush and it would be magnificent.
but months went by and we moved the bush from a flower pot to the ground, and it bloomed.
it smelled of childhood and candy.
the aroma raveled around you the moment
you set foot out the door
it coiled around your head, but softly.
like vines without thorns
but a few more months went by
and it began to wilt.
i crouched down to smell it one day
and a petal broke off into my fingers
and i cried.
my mother held me and told me,
maybe we can fix it. i'll see what i can do.
and so we made sure it was getting enough water
and sunlight
we made sure it had enough room to grow
but my small, fragile rose bush among these other growths, they towered over my creation
it did not belong here
no, not among these criminals
and i knew it wouldn't be too long
until
and so one day i cried again as i was told,
we have to dig it up, honey. it can't survive here.
and it killed me and it killed me and it killed me
so i was the one to do it
i was the one to destroy what i created
to destroy the thing i raised myself, the thing
the being that i loved and trusted
the life that loved and trusted me.
and so i kept the petals
and stored them in a music box.
they would crumble more and more everyday
and mother suggested to smash them between
the pages of a book i love
but i told her,
no, i don't want to smash it. i don't want to hurt it.
and so i kept them in a music box
and the key hung around my neck
the dancer atop her platform
spinning, spinning, spinning
endlessly and forever in that same pose
she stood proudly in her form
in her lime and blush colors
and guarded the decayed corpses of my youth
and to this day that music box
still lies in my bedroom somewhere
the petals still remain,
the only evidence that i ever lived
ever had a childhood
for it was short
so, so very short
just like the lifespan of a single rose
