Drugstore Perfume [Poetry]

rose ghost

rose ghost

july15twenty20

when those specters find their way through dappled grace, the quiet night. the haunting faces.

caught wandering these abandoned streets and having (im)purer thoughts. shelves of words lost to time and mankind, stores selling broken heart(ed) remedies and unspoken mistakes. the evening breeze brought with it a sort of reverent resonance that made the foundations shiver with a smile.

the streetlights go on; blink. sigh and stare at empty hands and those useless wares (you've already tried, there's no drug strong enough to drown it all out). you're always afflicted, and maybe you always will be. but maybe there will be a day where this no longer makes you grieve.

walk like you have nowhere and everywhere to go, like the night is a familiar friend and we are catching up. that leftover rain isn't only in the gutter, it got caught in your eyes, too. you smile despite the damp. I try.

you find your way to quieter avenues, away from neon signs and ways to run away. you don't want to run anymore; in that lies no peace, and you know this for sure (now). maybe it will always hurt. but maybe you will learn to accept that.

maybe this singing wind will bring you solace, as you turn keys into a familiar door. maybe it will become music to you as it creeps through cracks in the windows. the night wishes you well, for it has seen all that you've hidden from the bright and reminiscent day.

sleep well and heal. wander through the walkways of a city in disrepair, but one filled with heart and good intentions. one building at a time. one part at a time.

finding love in the most mundane, how romantic. but also how human. no matter how you may plead, it is not dead. keep waking up with those rose-tinted glasses you forbade long ago (it never stuck, even if it faded for a while).

keep living rosy and find your way.