Too late

She clutches
the flower,
palm sweaty,
holding tight.
By the time
she realizes
she can let go
the blood of the
crushed petals
has already
stained her skin.
It is too late, she
cannot undo what
has been done.
The past is solid,
set in stone.
You can’t change it,
leave it alone.
The only thing that
can be done
is to try to untangle
your choices,
one by one.

Copyright 2020 Leona Petrovic

3 thoughts on “Too late

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