roses

you say my name and it rolls 

off your tongue like life support 

 

i bought myself flowers from the market 

and strung them around the house 

so when you picked my heart apart like petals

i could leave a bouquet of roses 

at your doorstep and they would smell 

like early mornings tangled together,

my purse spilled on the floor

it got knocked off when the lights were 

out, but the early morning rays make a 

masterpiece of all my madness 

 

(i carry two chapsticks, tums, and 

a pocket journal everywhere i go)

 

but forget the charger, i’d rather roll off 

the cliffside singing into waves that 

greet me with more welcome 

than you ever did 

 

i say i love you and you say thank you 

i start dancing and you grab my arm to join, 

but end up stepping on all of my toes 

and leading me to the bedroom 

i am tired of waking up to my chapstick 

on the floor and wilting roses in the corner 

 

(you forgot to water them even though 

i reminded you six times in one afternoon)

 

you say my name and it sounds like love, 

but you chose a different four-letter word

you say my name and let it dangle 

between us like a promise i am neglecting to keep 

say my name and let me melt on your tongue 

until roses are bitter and those letters are mine again