Dear you,
I remember twice a month we'd think of each other,
And it'd be nice for a change to simply smile.
No matter how far down into myself I was burrowed,
My smile would come for you.
It was nice.
But I think I forgot that pressed flowers don't last forever.
And the fact that we didn't...we didn't think to catch the eyes of one another
In order to breathe together,
To be together...
I let the petals fall to the ground and I sit, just as broken as they are..
Pretty; in their preserved, musty fragrance, I am reminded of the thoughts that passed my mind in sole darkness.
None of peace or quiet
Only the wishing, aching, craving of a way to somehow smile...
Burrowed again, too deep and out of reach.
I could only rhythmically knit
Without you, I return to following the tightened puppet strings and it is...
Enough, enough, enough of this.
I mourn the peace and quiet of before the seeded pains.
When fertiliser was simply my own breathing without any need
For an echoed symphony following me.
I don't need double the footsteps,
A leader in the dances of life.
I must see the comfort in my own rugged-up skin,
And learn to balance the leading and the following of the world.
~
About the Creator
Ruby Red
Heya friend, I'm Red!
I write poetry, so subscribe for a hint of vulnerability, some honesty and the occasional glimpse behind my mask 🌱
Taking a break from Vocal; focusing on my anthology 🫶💖
AI is not art.
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Comments (1)
This is some deep stuff. The part about pressed flowers not lasting forever really hits home. It makes me think about how we sometimes take things for granted in relationships. I've been there, where you assume a connection will always be there. But then it fades. How do you think we can better appreciate the fleeting nature of these special moments while they last? Also, the idea of finding comfort in one's own skin is powerful. It's something we all struggle with at times. Have you ever had to learn to be okay with being alone and finding that inner balance? I'd love to hear your thoughts on that.