[POEM] Erstwhile

pain
is taking those flowers
we picked once upon a time
in a happier time
and igniting them

the petals of
joy
gentelness
strength
disinegrate into ash

we attempt to ignore
the smoke
that fills our lungs
and avoid the
unavoidable

its when we willingly breathe in
the ash and smoke
we realize that this pain
is inevitable 

and we have no other option than to filter the air and pluck away each
individual piece of ash
that has burned our porclain skin
because pain
shouldn't
last
forever

so when those smoldering embers
have been brushed away from
our delicacy

we will finally be able to cure
these burns that scar our skin

recovery
is picking new flowers
and this time instead of burning them
we embrace them

By  Aly

@-criminally-mindless