Archives for posts with tag: poem

Starlet Rose & Story

This photo is not mine. I found it through google searching Rose.
However, if it is yours please let me know and I can give you credit or take it down if you wish.

I am posting this photo because I find something beautiful about it.
I usually do not prefer roses considering there are many flowers that I find connect with my personality more. But, today this rose fits my emotions and my life.
I am now in the United States of America, I have left Europe yesterday.
Something different about the USA, I enjoy. The smell of summer in New York is new. I left the city and am now upstate in a country side. The earth was crying and desperate for rain. It began raining this evening, and that is when I awoke from jet lag, because earlier I decided a nap would be perfect.
The rain started off gently, and a breeze dusted the miles of grass with the presence of H20. It was lovely seeing the sky turn from light blue to a dim gray. There is something about the contrast.

My life right now feels like this rose. Shadowed in some areas where light cannot hit all of my petals, my thoughts. I reach my hand out of the window and let the rain drop itself in random areas of my skin. My eyeglass prescription hasn’t been updated, and I’ve been rather too lazy to pop in those contacts. My vision usually feels blurrier without my lenses, since they are the updated version of my poor eye sight. But ignoring lenses for a few days and only wearing glasses has made my eye sight feel better, more clear.
The rain dishevels this clearness I see, and I can imagine my skin transforming and melting off. And what is left of me?

I thought I would miss Europe more but I do not. In Firenze where I lived, it was full of tourists and city scape. It was beautiful but I wanted to see green earth. Now I have yards upon yards of blue sky and stars at night, that peek out of this blue cardboard and smile at me. Sometimes they drip from the sky’s ceiling, and reach out to me, feeling how I at random moments feel lost.

My friends back in Firenze haven’t written or messaged me. It only proves how life keeps moving on even when you leave. I have no desire to meet new people here or connect with anyone else. I’m in the mood to only focus on this change of state, being in the USA and being around clouds and fresh air.

I have a particular song playing over and over. I know in my last post: Potrei Morire, I posted a song with my poem– Sleepwalker by Nostalgia 77. That song was how I felt just then and is one of my favorites when my heart and mind ache for something more. However, all I have listened to over and over is Bloodstream by Stateless.
I admire the instrumental very much, it unravels my emotions and my confusion every time I hear it. And the lyrics are beautiful and haunting, just how I feel about my romantic other.
I miss her, and I long to see her again after all of this time. We feel distant now because I haven’t told her what I’m up to. I haven’t told her I’m in the USA to visit her. She thinks I’m still in Firenze. I want to surprise her for her birthday. I felt that it would mean much more if it just came as a huge shock if I either showed up on her door when she returns home from work, or surprise her with dinner I made on the table…maybe just set up candles in her room, light them, hide and see her reaction and confusion and then pop out of the closet– but is that too weird romantic-horror movie type scene?–with me out of a closet?

I’ve been acting distant from her because I can’t stand lying to her about where I am and what I’m up to. For me it is easier to rarely speak to her until a week or two passes when I go to visit her. My plane ticket is set, and I am already thinking of all of the things to pack to make our reunion romantic.

My mind is like an iceberg of marble. Marble that floats and is covered in styrofoam. I feel it break and hear that unpleasant sound like my skull is being forced open, being told to talk and expose itself.
Why do they think it’s so easy? Why is it hard to appreciate happiness?

I see honey dipped flowers and trees of cotton candy. I see the blood on your dress. I don’t know you any more. My cocoon of doubt, self hatred.

Dramatic. I feel the pulse of your electricity.

Please do not take my lyrics without asking. Thank you.

We sink into branches that we call suspenders. Time crystalizes the beating of your heart, but I see how you are not fragile.

I don’t want to get up, out of bed.  I’d rather slip, fall on my head.
My heart wants to collapse inside my chest,
but I’ll be okay if as long I can look–dead–

Do you hear it now? Can you feel the sound?
Stinging on the lips she kissed, I felt, a tear, drop
falling from the stars, into the palms that were, stuck, like…glue.

But did it even matter,
that the constellation of our love never was baptised
in the fire of their burning, eyes?
Did it not matter,
that we weren’t scared,
and if we were just a little,
we never shared?–those secrets with anyone, else.

Do you hear it now? Can you feel the sound?
Stinging on the lips she kissed, I felt, a tear, drop
falling from the stars, into the palms that were, stuck, like…glue.
I’m so attached to you,
not a marionette, but a girl with an aching heart
and strings, of veins,
a body built without shame.