What is it about loving you that makes me so brave?
Is it the possibility of more or just that
You picked me up with rubber gloves,
Did not deny that I'm just a branch of thorns,
Yet accepted me just the same.
I lost my bloom so long ago,
My petals (my beauty, my softness) fell one by one,
I had stopped feeling soft an eternity ago,
Was left as a carcass to the wind.
I never knew that I could not hurt,
That I don't need to hurt,
That I could still be soft, be kind,
Be considered nice, beautiful
For all my battle scars, for my darkness,
But you still held me,
Learnt to hold me as me,
Even when all I had were thorns.
And now I feel so brave,
That maybe love might let me bloom again,
Because I had stopped wanting to grow,
Yet now I find myself growing,
Spreading, maybe even budding,
Though I still keep my brown thorns.
Monday, 26 February 2018
Brave
Questions
I know you don't need me.
But could let me know if you want me?
All the time?
Are you sure about us going on,
Going down these lines?
Am I another memory?
But I'd like to be the last,
I have so many hopes and fantasies,
But I'm scared, so scared -
If I let my demons out,
Will you care?
If I need you,
Will you be there?
I think I need you
Sometimes
More than I want you,
But you never seem to.
I don't know if that's ok,
I maybe should go away,
Keep my heart safe -
How much can one fall?
I don't know if I am,
I'm just scared you'll hurt me,
So badly -
I think I gave you permission,
While secretly hoping you won't,
I feel compromised in my secrets.
Please don't hurt me.
New love
There's something about you that makes
chills run down my spine
be tipsy like I've had too much wine
turn into a woman with flowers
blooming wherever she steps
turn love into poetry
to immortalize a beauty I hope
I'm not the only to see.
Friday, 16 February 2018
A bouquet
You admire my beauty
As I lie here on this casket,
She caresses my skin,
She admires me too.
I wish you didn't have to kill me
To tell her, I love you.
Wednesday, 7 February 2018
Awarded
A collection of accolades on the wall.
A row of trophies from yesteryears.
A folder full of certificates I never needed.
A list of accomplishments I wonder if I earned.
There is so much to line my shelves
And adorn my walls and yet,
When I open my box of memories,
I find I've only travelled when and where,
Where my books have led me.
Such a short life I question where,
Did I even live at all?
If you don't exist in another's mind,
With love,
Did you even... (I dare not ask)
Were you a part of this world at all?