The Soul Collects Thorns

image

The soul collects thorns.
The heart hoards regrets.
The mind feast on memories.
The rose profligates.
We were a mutation,
a fender bender, a war
yet some piece of you lingers
in me and I won’t give it back.
The shrapnel remains in the wound.
Think of the stain
that never comes off a shirt.
The burn mark on an empty pan,
left too long on the stove.
Just because we’ve had more than we could take
doesn’t mean we wanted too much.

-Tosha Michelle

My cover of “Love Yourself”

Advertisements

49 thoughts on “The Soul Collects Thorns

  1. Oh so many wounds and shrapnel. I’ll agree with that wholeheartedly, Poetess! And if anyone tells us we are overweight, we can cite all of the broken hearts of the past and then go get a cheeseburger. πŸ˜‰ This is wonderful, Tosha. ❀

    Liked by 1 person

  2. The personification and metaphors in this one are fantastic. Most of us carry shrapnel from those old wounds and it most certainly does stay with us. Just wow, Tosha!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Bloody WordPress is being a twot again! No like button for my crooked index finger to bang.
    I will not be defeated, therefore…
    LIKE!
    Up yours WordPress!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Tosha you have no idea how this hits home for me. I love all of your poetry that I have read thus far but this one…ah, it just nearly made me teary and ya know… I don’t cry. Beautiful!

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s