Rose-Tinted Glasses by Tamara Naja

Rose-Tinted Glasses

by Tamara Naja

She slumps like a crumpled flower too roughly handled. Mud stains the delicate lace; its oozing fingers cling to the cloth in desperation. Crestfallen clouds tear open their hearts and release their sorrows onto the once white satin. She flinches at the added insult. Their droplets splatter her forehead, chasing the mascara down her flushed cheeks in a mockery of black tears. She makes no move to wipe the abomination away, preferring it to stand as a testament to all. War paint. No strong arm to escort her to womanhood. No gentle hand to brush back the flowered veil clinging to unraveling curls. She sits a defeated sentinel, stroking the decaying rose petals scattered at her feet. The earth reclaiming another gossamer memory.