roses
i slip under the door, leaving
them to someone else’s care
as i don’t
mind
anymore
who’s left for me
tell me
as i wear ochre and black
every day that i’m walking
(through
a forest of skinned bodies)
naked
dead
(soul)
don’t talk to me i’m busy
mourning
i’m already in disguise
can’t you see?
i’m crying
silver
make-up
rivers
is it that
whoever drifted away from sight
is considered dead
by the whitest soul?
tell me ’cause
i’m innocent
and lost
tell me
who’s left for me
to cry for?
who’s left
to cry for
me?
i don’t care
i’m sipping tea, and
slipping rose petals under gateways
i’m going to walk through soon
when i had enough
of burying myself
under heaps of earth-
en ware
when i hit home
inside
my cry will let you all
know —
all.
*** Oh, and here’s the link to today’s prompt at dVerse poets pub! We had to take the colo(u)r wheel, and play with colo(u)r symbolism. Believe it or not as my poem is sad, but I had a lot of fun including colo(u)rs into it. Make sure you check out on a few other poets’ contributions too!
By the way the picture was taken by me (and instagrammed) during a walk in Old Montreal. I wish I knew who made this beautiful doorart. ***
when i hit home inside…sometimes we do have to get there…luckily it doesnt sound like you have given up completely…knowing there are doors you will still slip through….nice use of color in this…
hey you…good to see you…smiles.
thank you dear! don’t worry i’m not dead… nor am i dying. there are just steps i need to take (or not to). i’m glad to be back too.
….the hardest part of living is when you pretend you’re alive when you’re long dead inside… reconcile with your own sadness first then let go free yourself before you can say a tree is a tree, the earth is an earth, & the air is not an air but a wind that warms your breasts… smiles…
thank you, dear. yes, « reconcile with [my] own sadness », that’s exactly the process i’m going through. *smile back*
Very hauting. Beautifully written. I really love this piece. 🙂
thanks so much!
Well….how lovely to see you ~
Specially like this part: when i had enough
of burying myself
under heaps of earth-
en ware
Title is terrific too ~
thank you dear~
Ghostly atmosphere, an indefinable echo of colour, like a comet’s tail.
oh, thanks a lot!
i’m sipping tea, and
slipping rose petals under gateways
i’m going to walk through soon
when i had enough
of burying myself
under heaps of earth… that was the turning part for me here… the decision which way we take and how we take it… the decision to stop mourning but moving on and the rose petals…great symbolism in this
exactly. thank you. mourning teaches us something, in fact a lot of things, if we first live it, and then shake it off when it’s over.
I love this, Aimee. esp the slipping rose petals…
oh, thank you Mohana!