The Price
By Remedy Ryan
The tourists trampled
the sunflower field
for the perfect Instagram shot
The field reduced to useless,
golden ruins
Remember when we were born?
Our mothers cried for us then
Little fools
To think that beauty could exist
Without pain
One winter night
we rubbed each other’s hands
until they turned raw
I didn’t know it then
But you were already gone
How much time will l spend
in front of the mirror?
Becoming something
worth ruining—
again