SIX FEET TALL, LIKE ME

In the corner you stand, another cold winter
keeping you small, a lighter shade of green,
leaves or petals fall, not sure what they are.

Shriveled brown parts drop down, still able to
stick with thorns and it stabs me once more
drawing blood, leaving an itchy irritation too,
before landing in the bottom of the trash bin
with ATM receipts, junk mail, bill envelopes.

I think about leaving it inside for the summer,
to stunt his growth, the hot sunny days and
warm nights make it grow way too fast for me.
Need to slow it down, keep it from reaching
my ceiling, but after all that wouldn’t be right
or fair to try and keep it small, even the pot
an orange five gallon bucket seems harsh, and
I think about the life it’s forced to live with me.