Beautiful Black Swan, Impossible Blue Rose

I’m treading a pathway,
Formed of cracking glass.
I’ve got one life, one chance,
But I just can’t leave the past.

I’ve been treading half-heartedly
Through the garden of the dead.
Rust-coloured flowers,
And ash-black trees.

I’ve been living a lie,
Been kidding myself.
Been holding the knife,
To my own throat.

I’ve walked the path,
The path of the Outcast,
Until a willing decision
Left me lost in the shades.

I’ve taken my time to know,
My time to understand.
To live.
To care.

I failed.
I gave up. Several times.
I peeled away my mind,
To the darkest core.

I hated it.
I hate it.
I despised it,
I still do.

Within me is a wrong heart,
A multi-coloured heart,
A dangerous heart,
A dark heart.

These colours clash,
In vicious fractal patterns.
They scorch my eyes,
They burn my hands.

Even if it stung you,
You wouldn’t let go.
It hurt too, at first.
But the burns heal.

A loving touch,
And the skin becomes smooth.
A warm kiss,
And the eyes open.

A brief glance,
And the fractals freeze.
The water flows.
The hate bleeds.

And I start to care again.
I start to think I can make it.
Maybe.
I don’t know.

You don’t care though.
You’ve stuck on anyway.
Hell, even when I’ve been
Begging to let go.

So in some belated,
Depressing,
Stupid,
Hopeless attempt,

I once again give you a gift.
My heart, beating.
My mind, living.
My love, caring.

I ask of you,
Good conversation.
Willingness to wait.
The chance to care, to love.

So to you, my bright,
Shapely, stunning, thoughtful,
Funny, naïve, intelligent,
Sweet, ebony dear.

I’m sorry for my mistakes.
I love you.
Beautiful blue rose.
I hope you feel the same.