Cracked Mud

She’s cracked, dried mud.

She used to be the sun;

glowing, radiant, resilient.

Her heart was a garden of laurels,

lady’s breath, occasionally

a lily.

I mean, I don’t blame her.

He pulled out all her color,

ripped the vines from her veins,

tore the roses from her hips,

she had nothing left.

I’m sorry he did that,

sorry you’re just a stupid cliche now.

Mostly though-

I’m sorry you didn’t fight to flourish.

You planted your damn flowers, mom,

and you didn’t care to nurture them.

Now I’m pulled from your hollowed earth

and you can’t stand it.

It isn’t your fault you lost your glow but you

didn’t fight to light up what you had left,

and now you’ve lost it.

I’m on my own now.

I’m not anybody’s.

Not Daddy’s little girl- fuck that.

And I’m not yours either.

All I see is cracked mud.

Find more of Kelsey’s work on her Tumblr.