There is a tourniquet on her tongue
There is a swell in her heart where he stung
There are written words that remain unsung
There is a list of wrongs that they all hung

There is a trail of ash where lightning struck
There is a stem remaining from her petals he pluck
There is a girl with hope but never any luck
There is quicksand where her feet are stuck

There are rooms without any remorse
And days we seem to make it worse
Where life exists only in verse
They leak from pages and turn to curse

There is a small window where he may care
But you will never get to meet him there
He will pull the blind so they cannot stare
And wear a mask that says beware

There are stones to throw whether wrong or right
And reasons to keep them all up at night
There are teeth attached to mouths that bite
And mistakes so bright you won’t need a light

There are roads we build of the unknown
With caverns of secrets we will never own
And shame like ice we carve a home
Faces with frowns of moments blown

If you stop and take a look around
At your feet growing up from the ground
It grows so high now past your crown
This is where the seeds of love are found

© Delia Ross. 2019