Pain.
It's like
a bunch of red roses.
A beautiful thorn necklace.
Everyone has one.
With wreaths of leaves
on their heads and ankles.
Red blood mingles with red rose petals.
Sitting in the dirt and singing
behind barbed wire.
Great whirlwinds, shining dizziness, bubbling drunkenness
standing upside down above us.
Screams with a noise like the shaking of bells.
Guard my sleep,
bite back at my pain,
leave our tears and sorrows behind
within the rotting hollows in the silver pool.
The silver water turns red
with the red roses of pain that bloom  beneath the surface.
The thorn necklace lines the edge like barbed wire,
the green leaves become uniformed guards.
We'll leave our pain behind, leave it
in the darkness.
In the darkness of the human heart
we will hide our pain.