
The white roses are covered in the morning mist
As you walk out the door with red rage in your fists.
I don’t know where you’re going,
Don’t know if you’ll come back,
But my heartbeat is slowing,
Healing from your attacks.
Still, I smell the pale flowers as I watch you go,
With each step that you take I breathe in more vertigo.
I don’t know where you’re going,
Don’t know if you’ll come back.
Maybe I’m tired of knowing,
Maybe I’ve lost track.
-Jackie