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Rosemarie Caruso Sep 2019
hide the knives,
put them away,
so I may live
another day.
this is just the start of a poem I'd like to continue to keep working on. my husband has to hide the knives sometimes when I'm feeling ultra distressed. they've been hidden for about 3 months now and I'm not eager to take them out just yet.
Rosemarie Caruso Sep 2019
and so you sweetly said to me upon the fireside,
"take care my dear, for souls like ours have withered up and died."

and even great romancers of the holy scriptures say,
"take care,
take care,
take care,
take care,
take care and live the day."

I never did believe that I'd retire in the sky
but live my next life in the air, a dainty butterfly

but just in case I pass away and turn back into dust
take care,
take care,
take care,
take care,
I know I really must
lyrics to a song I'm working on.
Rosemarie Caruso Aug 2019
Flower on water
Please give me strength to cope
With things I have said
Rosemarie Caruso Jan 2017
You held me in the darkness.
We talked away the pain.
I sang the tune without the words,
And filled the sky with rain.

We danced among our manic storm,
Connected at the soul.
Shaking our heads to static thought
From men with hearts of coal.

Even in the stillest days,
An earthquake rests inside.
A rumbling, crumbling, mumbling mess
I thought I'd never hide.

And now I know I never will;
You've shown me the light.
No beauty from the brightest day
Can compare to the dark of night.

Thank you for existing,
For choosing just to be.
Since I'll be infinitely listing:
Thanks for loving me.
She was a dreamer
Never a realist.

When she is falling,
She believed she is flying.

When she is beaten,
She believed love is deepen.

When she is breaking,
She believed Earth is shaking.

When she is broken,
She believed she is chosen.

When she is crying,
She believed it's purifying.

She was a dreamer,
Never a realist.

That is why,
When you are leaving,
She finally is breathing.
But you are not leaving.
Rosemarie Caruso Mar 2016
when people find out that I'm depressed
they say they never would have guessed

that one so lively and so sweet
would slice through her skin in hushed defeat

they ask me "how does one so great
decide there's no happiness in her fate?"

to which I say, "where flowers grow
are any plucked before the tortured rose?"
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