I'm weightless. Boundless.
My world slowly spins, and I spin with it.
One gentle push and I am swept away.
Falling.
Falling.
I am surrounded by billions of different faces. Together we blanket the world in white.
My doom is inevitable. This beauty drips away, seeps into the ground. Because beauty never lasts, even beauty such as mine.
I came slowly, gently, sometimes raging, I coated your world like a frigid hand. Some of you hated me, some of you loved me.
When this time ends, I will come again.
That’s Why I’m Here
Sometimes, I dip my fingers into the water near my home, and I let my tears roll down creating ripples in the once still water.
Romantics like to come
rest beneath me.
They like to sigh and lament for the one who does not love them back.
I listen.
I always listen.
because how can you not
when these folks are right under nose?
All jokes aside,
I listen
because at the very least
they did not lament alone.
They did not sigh and find themselves swimming in their own tears for nothing.
They will never know
that when they leave,
I sigh for them.
I let my tears for them
roll down my arms,
ripple the once still water.
Letting go of their excess sadness
So that one day
Those tears will
evaporate to the sky.
Continuing the cycle of expression
until the sky grows heavy,
and rains down the sadness
that was once so big
for one small romantic’s broken heart.
The rains fall and the romantics of the world look at the rain and find it fitting. At least today they won’t have to pretend to be chipper.
My name is my mission.
My silhouette a cry for those that will wail under the dome of my eyes.
And my message is clear:
come to me when you are aching
and I will listen.
I will always listen.
Bonne Soirée
I stood at the edge of the dimly lit room and watched as people moved about. Bodies wove together in a blob as they interacted with one another. Music filtered throughout the room the hum coursing through my entire being. No one seemed to notice me from my position next to the countertop. Honestly speaking, I didn't even know why I was near there at all. I was fairly sure that the fragrance that was dumped on me and was consequently emitted from my body would overpower the food and drinks. The intoxicating fumes wafting over and assaulting their senses. Of course, I wouldn't mind being noticed by someone, even if it was only for a few measly seconds of their time.
Yet, even still, I was mostly ignored. I swayed slightly as a breeze filtered through the stagnant air. I didn't know where it came from. It could've been from an open window, the air conditioner, or even caused by the movement of someone walking by. Whatever it was, it didn't do much to cool my surface. The heat came from within rather than from the slightly stifling room. A thin layer of liquid sat on my smooth waxy exterior and glistened in the low light. I didn't pay much attention to it and neither did others. I was certain it would go away with time.
So, I stood and continued to stand where I was for the rest of the night. Abandoned to my little area to blend in with the décor around me and blessing, or maybe cursing, people anywhere near my vicinity with my scent. And I was alright with that. It will all be over far too soon and, eventually, I will have lost my purpose.
What am I feeling?
1.
It feels as though holding your hand over a flame...
Testing the pan held over the campfire
secretly hoping tonight will be the same.
2.
It feels as though holding your hand over a flame...
Kindling the inferno from a lone match
burning all which went unsaid with reckless aim.
3.
It feels as though holding your hand over a flame...
Cupping the warmth of a lonely candle
holding out until when your parents came.