Abstract Rose

Abstract Rose
By Helena Rutan

In my life
Nothing is linear.
No order.
No boxes.
Nothing with angles.
Like red Jell-O flung from a mold, half-set.
The painting drips crimson confusion.
An explosion of blood and gore.
Chaos mostly.
What is my melting point?
Set! Me! Ablaze!
Do whatever.
Only never put me back in the fridge.
Maybe I'm a beautiful, abstract rose.
That Somebody Else is painting.