Roses

roses

do you ever wonder at the mind-utterings of a rose? or pondered at the whispered wishes the heartfelt, hushed loves that are sung deep within that nest of blood petals?

this tiny little dewdrop that has now set itself on the edge of my paper once hung over the edge of her dear friend's petals kis't the tender, shielding nest which warms her friend's heart and had the fortune of leaving its heart right next to her dear rose's

and so desperate is that little dewdrop to sing of the whisperings she has borne witness to that she has lost the very body that made those mutterings meaningful simply to become ink on my paper and write her record of her own accord.

this dewdrop says that all that lovely rose wishes for is to feel less lonely to have her dear heart, which she has shielded and nestled for so long, finally find a channel to flutter in and find love to melt into

a rose's heart is simple and very delicate. she only desires to dissolve into love's deep and vibrant trance. her heart knows naught of the turmoil that comes with love the fear that accompanies boundless affections and the 'other'ness that comes crashing into one's heart riding on the powerful waves of unchecked yearning.

the dewdrop is no simpleton. she has lived countless lives; many as the vast oceans, many as the tiny teardrops in terrified eyes.

she knows the endless joys of rich and unique love. she knows the many tales and tapestries that love has woven through her blind, benevolent hands

yet, she also knows the many fears that love brings.

love's very blindness and benevolence become blessing and curse and toy with the lives of those who have too much love to give.

the loneliness and the abandonment that deep, blind love causes is unbearably oppressive and a root for so many, many fears...

all creatures have an instinctual, intrinsic, animalistic yearning for deep, passionate love but why are the creatures for whom love is overflowing and kindness is in verity discarded by the very humans who are characterised by their yearning of this full, flowing love so regularly discarded and 'other'ed?

(inspired by my many fears of having too much love to contain or restrict in any forms. thank you very, very kindly for reading.)

let yourself be held, though plant one foot on the ground for even a feather becomes heavy when held for too long

I am a writer,

Which means I have never given

A straight answer.

Opulent strings of words,

Pearls grinding against one another,

Teeth like seashells triturating -

Always eloquent, always windy,

Never forthright.

But I would like to be candid,

I would like to be honest

And unequivocal.

If only for you.

So when I say I long for

Your petal soft lips brushing gently

Across my flushed skin,

Your fervid breathy gasps

To fill my lungs

As I exhale for us both at once -

Know that I am asking for a kiss.

before i drown

the last piteous moment is: spent wailing, screaming for help, bellowing for a companion to come to my rescue; spent, not wisely in gratitude, not foolishly in self-importance, but only humanly-- still lost in love, filling my dying mind incessantly with worries and troubles all for the sake of 'merely' all the affections and affectations of my heart only to discover that all the depths of emotion and every single thing that i consider the very foundation of human life is forever to be left uncared for when in your last moments; spent in the grip of death-- both my mind and soul desperately groping every small particle that may even barely mimic safety, grasping onto every tiny holding, holding onto every memory (barely) by my mouth if i have to refusing to let go of the hope of life even as this dearest lover melts away into nothingness and absconds in front of my eyes;

there is yet a little nag in the back of my head--

why is it so easy for the sands of life to slip away? life, who i held so dear and near, life, who felt so heavy, full and real, how can she just fall away so easily?

is my dearest lover who has (arguably) been my longest and best love only a mere dream? is my dear life, whom i have loved and cherished so truly just this pointless and this meaningless that she can be so easily gotten rid of without having any impact?

as water fills my lungs and last recollections fill my brain, as the sea and my life are lapping around me, as my body succumbs and my soul grows tired, i only whisper one wish into these waters that now cradle me;

let this last of my life be the first of a new one. let my last breath as one with form become my first sight as one of essence. let me meet new people and become new things as i make the foretold transformation from long-forgotten child to forever cherished goddess. let my essence become this loved water and give me all the delights that i have yearned for in my forever real form.

(am i being drowned in the water and losing all of myself or am i rising from the water mingling with it embracing it only to become all i have ever desired?)

Brown autumn eyes As dark as the Winter skies My heart aches violently For the bliss of that Charming smile. Paradise I'm looking into, A universe in your heart For I wish to dwell forever Being the picture for your art. My heart yearns for yours As it had done Ever since the start. Little blue brush strokes In my body are nothing But humbly carved by you, You took my heart and pretend not to have it The blood is yours that runs them through. The daisies by the bloodshed lake Feel like you. The sun makes them shine bright In the blood which is mine. ~Arthur's Version

Shallop of emotions are mere silence

Tears are where the scars surface

Where the lines are drawn

But perhaps the shallop dawns the dance of the cry

Incite me

Suffocation of eyes are the tangled consequence of the sorrow

The taunting crimson

The blushing swell

The almond, oval, all the clovers

Bow before the tears of agony

Humour me

Shall it be longing, reminiscing

Or even loss

It's not burn that marks the post

The numbness seizes the win of goal.

(Have a great day :p)