Sanctuary Of Chrysanthemums

• Sherry-Ann Nguyen, Grade 11
• Poetry
• 2019

I'd lay in a canopy of dried chrysanthemums,
tan skin warmly baked in the sun,
nostrils enveloped in the flowery skeleton of what was once alive.
Only then would my clenched battle fist soften,
red ears fade to innocent blush,
my eyelids peacefully droop
as the heat starts to set on the horizon.
It's a sanctuary I could call my own;
a harmonious choir of song made of stone;
one where my own torn tapestry of time
(once burst in kaleidoscopes of colour)
would leave the ribbons of my body to return to the soil.
To begin again.
No longer a liability, only then
would I piece the puzzles of myself together again
and love without the innate fear of losing more than what I'm happy to give.