Into Ash

I have cried
For ages, years...centuries
And now I glance upward
From my place on my bed
My gaze falling upon the pitcher
Holding the delicate roses
That you gave me
So long ago

The roses that you gave
Just as you gave me your heart
"To keep," you said
"Love is a hard thing to hold
Look at these buds, remember me
And I will be back for you
My love...."

They were pale pink once
Delicate and true
Now they've turned brittle with age
Yellowed, like burnt paper
Ready to fall apart
At the slightest breath
Of wind

I rise, entranced
Remembering things from so long ago
Carefully, holding my feeble few breaths
I touch one of the paper buds
I smile for a moment
As the scent of a summer lost rises
From the brittle petals

And then
As a birdcall sounds outside
The rose falls to dust
Breaking like my heart
Like glass
Like the fresh tears
Breaking upon my face.

I go mad
Insane
I rip the delicate buds to shreds
I hate you
I do
You made me like this!
Ripping apart memories
As if I want to rip apart myself

It's over now
I crumble like the roses did
Falling into ash
Upon the floor.