Free Verse: Empty Hands

KATIE LAMAR

Roses, dozens of roses, dozens of wonderfully red wishful roses waiting so patiently at my doorstep
Dozens of roses
I didn’t mean to scare you when I screamed but your love was too gigantic for me
It filled my belly like a baby, shone its light into my world so brightly I had to shield my eyes
I close my door on your hundreds of roses
and creep quietly back to my romance novel with a blanket and flashlight in hand
How small am I? So small.

I read about your kind of love in between the lines of my books and in the ending of movies, I see it in the meadows and up the valleys where the flower stems intertwine and grow up and up
How small am I? So small.

I keep my love locked in the corner of my room in an envelope with all the other letters to the boy I haven’t met yet-

A boy who isn’t coming.

And yet you’re here with your roses, dozens of roses, dozens of wonderfully red wishful roses and I am so small. I am so deaf to your poetry written in ways I haven’t heard before,
I am so silent to your questions spoken in ways that haven’t been asked before-

Not to me, at least
And I cry and I cry and I cry to the pages of love in my hand
Tears fall, there they go, goodbye
And you cry, and you cry, and you cry to a girl who is real and in your hands and she is me
And I’m sorry,

But these pages are my blood while I am your blood
I am not ready to be somebody’s love
Yet you love me with your dozens of roses
And I close myself off with a dozen goodbyes dozens of woefully whispered goodbyes, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye

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