chapter 123
"my roses"
when i clutched my fistful of roses
my knuckles turned ivory
in a desperate attempt to keep
my romantic desires afloat
my tongue stumbled on words to say
and i thought that
literature could not illustrate my emotions
until i felt the faint tap of a rose petal on my foot
and it reminded me of the way
she embraced me
all the velvet nights lay so peacefully
in that american diner just off of rodeo drive.
a gasp of fresh air
it feels so good to be free, doesn't it?
my heart sunk somewhat regrettably
as i left the suffocated roses by my feet.
at first i felt unwound
like tangled christmas lights
that finally got separated
except i didn't glow nearly as much
when i saw my crying palms
dripping with blood
i suddenly saw the thorns decorated
along the stems of the roses.
and i was oblivious to them
the whole time
i held so tightly onto something
that was inevitable to hurt me.
and now that american diner
just off of rodeo drive
is simply a cluster of blurred lights
that i drive past.
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gone with the wind
Poetrywith love care and literature, draining and negative feelings can be gone with the wind. HIGHEST: #64 in Poetry #2 in aesthetic poems #7 in spirituality poetry exploring spiritual and physical worlds and the emotional wellbeing of myself and other...
