Lips to a Thorn

Pixabay image.
Courtesy: Pixabay
on a knife edge
slashing the past,
her tranquility on fire,
dense smoke
haunting each night.

Abusive memories
on a blind path
of sharp betrayal,
replaying each night
when she turned out
the light.

Each morning's cure
was to give love,
gather love,
her lips to a thorn
hurting less
when her heart held roses.

©September 2017, October 2021
Christina Anne Hawthorne

About Christina Anne Hawthorne

Alive and well in the Rocky Mountains. I'm a fantasy writer who also dabbles in poetry, short stories, and map making. My Ontyre tales are an alternative fantasy experience, the stories rich in mystery, adventure, and romance. Alternative fantasy? Not quite steampunk. Not quite gothic. In truth, the real magic is in those who discover what's within.
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