My bruises will sprout kindness

For days I have allowed the scene of a crime 

to exist heavy in my mind. An act

of vandalism. The origami roses

have all been torn to pieces and the ink

stains angry red. Think of me

I should have said – should have armed

myself with flowers and love not listened

to blue black words, should not have 

inflicted my own bruises. 


For days I have lain in a meadow

where silence reigns and to be frank

I am quite done. I am finished, 

floor swept, and hands wiped clean

of all you have ever thought of me. 

My bruises will yellow to green 

and sprout kinder things than a love

built on the sands of envy. 


(and you should know that things

built on sand never last.)



Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020

Between the Trees UK

Between the Trees US

6 thoughts on “My bruises will sprout kindness

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