Rose - Hello Poetry

Rose Aug 2018

before

3 may 17

sincerely hoping to tear this page out.

i promised myself i would never write about you because i know that once this pen grazes paper, the thought of you will be permanently engraved somewhere, and although not physically, but mentally and emotionally in the depths of my brain, figuratively.
my outlets these days are quite scarce. i tore out my sheets and tried to erase the thought of you, of our intimacy. but what i've ceased to comprehend is that it's not that simple. i can change my sheets, remove my posters, switch my nightlight, remodel my whole room, but, that doesn't change it. change the fact that you still consume my thoughts like a virus, spread throughout my body, filling my core to the brim with inadequacy.
i love you, i hate you.
it is a constant cycle of indecisiveness that floods me with feelings of deep desire, love, and infatuation, to the less constant but still present, feelings of rage, anger, pain, and resentment projected towards you.
i can't wait until the day.
the day when you are either out of my life for good...
or
prove to me that love still exists.
-v.la

#moving #on

Rose Jul 2018

clarity in the rare

my heart pounds
my butterflies rocket to the sky
my hormones are heightened
my throat constricts
how is it that i feel everything at once
delight.
contentment.
infatuation.
it feels surreal,
and it's all because of him.
the epitome of human art
i'm intrigued by every aspect,
every idiosyncrasy,
every flaw.
i want to be consumed by every part of him, to the brim.
i want to inhale the peace and serenity he brings,
i want to swallow his touch,
and never regurgitate,
i want to believe in the hope he's awakened in me.
i want, i want, i want.
but i fear.
fear the potential heartbreak,
the loss of excitement if he disappears,
i fear the depth of my emotions,
the abyss of "love" i always lurk on the edges of so idly
is it worth it?
to put all this power in his hands.
and in return,
shower him with the love my heart swells, threatening to burst, with,
and for once.
just once,
feel it back.
-v.la

Rose Apr 2018

open me

unravel all my layers, and allow yourself to be consumed. rewarded—with the manifestation of human art that is me.
the complexity of my mind reveals the innermost intricacies of raw, pure, unfiltered love, that none have yet been able to grace.
-v.la

Rose Mar 2018

cliché

i am trying to start a creative spark,
but how difficult is that when ive got nothing to write about?
i can talk about the boy whose had me winded from the start
but how cliché would i be,
to write about a broken heart
i could speak of my pain and hurt
or how i CONSTANTLY feel like dirt
how unloved i feel,
or my unacceptable ways relating to,
how i deal.
with the suicidal thoughts of causing myself harm, and how easy it'd be,
to just runaway to some farm.
but i think, no, i truly believe that all good writing sprouts from a story of pain,
how in this world, we are all
nothing but a stain,
waiting, hoping, praying,
to be washed away.
when the time has come,
and we are lying in the ground with our deceased remains,
what will be the last memories that flash before our eyes to see?
probably that in the end,
life wasn't at all
what you expected it to be.
-vla

Rose Oct 2017

envy

i am the mirror image of the broken girl
inadequacy is what i feel when i look at her
how she so effortlessly
does the things
i attempt to do in immense effort
she is my friend
my lifeline
but when i see her
envy
it reigns deep in my bones
inadequacy
it takes me off my off my high horse
i am no longer pretty or confident
i feel the need to shade myself
from the wandering eyes of his
as he looks at her
like he is her world
in lust
and i am
just me.
which seems to be never enough
i am the mirror image
of the broken girl
who walks through the halls
smile on her face
but deep inside all she feels is pain
all i can hope one day
is to shatter the image
and feel beautiful
just being
me.
-vla

— The End —