Yesterday Morning (Revision) Poem by Harlequin Rose

In a field of roses
mostly turned grey
some black
They crush in the palm like paper
similar to my picture
and the lights on the wall
fallen, dimmed,
we turn and walk away
shattered like broken glass on the earth
for I am nothing, if not critical
of an image that cannot be forgiven
paper crinkles where letters were folded
creases dying along non-existent seams
where words are now faded
asphyxiated
on what they used to be
now in hands not hearts
wondering how things were supposed to be
as fury unrequited becomes rage
this is her story
bearing down like nightfall
and heavy with cold
and though she wants it bad
she won't know how it ends
until its all been told
she got rocked
by invisible forces and brutality
it touched her like fingers
in intimate places
and though she fell into sleep
she will awaken
to a heart that is not her own
I tried to be her security
but I knew her patience
and her will to love
wouldn't let me be enough for her
and humiliation drenched in confidence
told she would always be
too much for me
I took all the blame
though I knew she would never return
she left the door swinging yesterday morning
and the creaking is my lullaby
guiding me into tormented sleep
in a soundless, rhythmless night
she dropper her love off at the door yesterday morning
and dark crystals hit an abandoned floor
I thought I would always love her
I've never been so wrong before.