I took her in my hands and clawed,
scraped off the weeds and thorns
that suffocated
her fragile breath.
I ripped off the flaking skin,
dead long ago.
Tore away the charred ashes
of broken hearts that clung to her limbs.
And as I did,
the blood of her sins
soaked anew her quivering frame.
I pushed back the stinging tears
falling into her gaping wounds,
and then I just let her bleed.
I took her in my hands again
and trimmed.
I carved her down
until I found
the cage that was her heart.
But when I opened up the door,
there was no precious flower.
Nothing but a dreary cave,
where once was kept
a black soul.