If I corroded in a sea of pipe dreams and indecision-
Would you salvage me?
Bore a savage to stagnation and complacency-
Would you hold on?
Rhetorical questions, and anecdotes of a unrequited nature
It seemed to heavy for them.
Perilous prince and demon in dispose
My eyes a ripened red and you bit into worms of avarice feasting off a rotting disdain.
The taste of passivity dripped from tongue and lip.
Those hands reached for petals from a somber flower- a potential rose, albeit discard the fruit of our labor
Different hands pressed and palmed the thorns
disregard the core of fruitless efforts to shock the nerves, trigger the memories of discrepancy.
Mistaken white lost to starlight.
In this we were pristine and unsullied then ragged and uninspired by winter- burgundy by spring.
All those roses wilted.
A garden for restless behavior.
A taste for Chrysanthemums and savory mint thereafter