Iris you lovely soul

hiding behind eyes beautiful as flowers

fronts for bitter sorrows

hopes hanging in the balance

of whether or not you feel good


Lovely girl, you are more

your soul is bigger than you perceive

your body smaller than you see

and your face, a beautiful sculpture

not an artistic blunder


Iris, hold the knife a little farther

pour the pills down the drain

your brain is chemically inclined for disaster

your heart a mess of perforated lines


hold on


bodies were made for healing

hearts made for mending

the reoccurring past made to be rewritten

life’s rhythms were made to be broken


hold on


tomorrow may be that day when flowers

begin to bloom in the ashes of your soul.



© Kristen N. Rea and WildFire Dreams, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Kristen N. Rea and WildFire Dreams with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


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