Petals

I sit here on a bright summer's day,
And yet even with the embracing warmth,
I feel as cold as ice,
Something is missing,
Like a flower without its petals.
My inmost being is trying to break out,
Like a demon from within.
And just like a demon,
It would tear apart that of which brings forth my petals.
Words dance on my tongue,
A dance to a bittersweet melody,
Shoes of knives,
Restraining the words which I most dearly want to speak.
Keeping composure,
I stand and I walk away,
Leaving behind that which tore at flesh and bone,
And as I walk,
I hold out my hand,
As a single petal floats into my hands.