Ash Pile

i stand upon my ruined soul i stand here in a land of grey not sure what to do. i can see the green of everyone else the warm breeze flitters through my greying dyed hair my fake black nails scratch at my throat my coloured clothes feel faded. my once open heart feels a little jaded but yet, somethign grows. a tiny flower a rose of hope small, weak and black buit something none the less. sheilding this new growth laying in the ashes of my sorrow the burning pain watering the blossom with my tears maybe this is a plant that will last more than a few years? the sun cant reach it the dark consumes it wallowing in my pain it's a plant that's angry and cold nutured by hate now... what did you expect now? you cant teach it compassion and love becuase you cant teach me compassion and love. jealousy.. of the greener days when you watered my soul and now.. here i lay in soot and ash a dirty ill mess. but then again this is how some like it best. xoxo Kyelle