Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Roses Are Bed Aug 2019
So often we see this colorful world in black and white; not out of generalization, but because we are curious of what’s beneath.

Beneath the gradients are newfound knowledge, for knowledge is comfort;

but beneath the blankets of recollection is a restless soul tugging away at the sun;

beneath ourselves lay vessels of blood connecting a sea of conscience;

beneath the tides an equal and opposite wave, pulsing through the veins of dimensions and forces beyond our grasp,
a testimony of the indescribable unknown.

Through curiosity we become overwhelmed, and do not wish to know more than what we can see.

So yes we generalize.
Funny how duality works.
Roses Are Bed Jun 2019
the last dimming room
in this tormenting gloom
a shade above the darkest hues

bleeding as it dances
stretched across the canvas
endlessly it blends into view

but as the colors fade
from all the works you've made
you hope that it won't catch up to your pace

but as time wins the race
the abyss will still remain
the only thing left that knows your name

the abyss will give you hope
if you'd just let it go
better days await you from below

bleeding while recalling
the colors you've forgotten
give in to the whispers of the fallen

a cycle is endless
only we can end it.
Roses Are Bed Apr 2019
Explorers of the tundras.
Wanderers of a higher purpose,
Bearing the throes of a million winters,
Carrying the flame as the others retreated within their burrows.

In darkness we see no night.

Deep within nature's deadfall lies another sunrise,
Another day in search of a memory.

Who knows what they'll find?
Roses Are Bed May 2018
I stand before the clouds where the sky opens up
the outside air is refreshing in the rain
it's always lovely
watching as it pours
over this rundown metropolis
across the alley ways and bus stops
passing through the breeze at day
blending into the city lights at night
a beautiful water world
all coming to life

and in the midst of it all
a lone observer
wandering the streets
underneath the velvety deep red
my favorite umbrella
it looks out for me
protecting me from the torrent

but I'm not always obedient
I love how it spatters
splashing softly against my legs
slowly seeping into my shoes and socks
it's a cold and fuzzy feeling

the others choose to wear plastic coats
big enough to hide themselves
boots to keep steady and never wash away

but my umbrella is all I have
maybe I'm hopeless
maybe I don't know any better
but when it opens up
everything feels a little more okay
and that's all I ever need

I walk where the streets are empty
winds more heavy as the storm approaches
the others hurried to leave
in search of something else
a new shelter, hope, anything
when they showed their faces
I could see the clouds in their eyes
they were just like me

but there's no one here anymore

when suddenly the rain stopped

where I was

in the eye of the storm

the only spec of color in a thousand miles

a velvety, deep

blood red

I'm just an observer

who sees not with eyes

a beautiful water world

when everyone cries.
what does it mean to you?
Roses Are Bed May 2018
A capsule for your mind
To rediscover in time
When you come back down

Somewhere they can't find you
In case you ever forget
Here's something to always remind you

You are loved
You are precious
And in time you will learn to love
Your own body and mind

Take a walk
Go outside
If you are ever stuck in a loop
Don't be afraid to take chances, okay?
Promise me that

I trust you

Now go
You can do it!
Roses Are Bed May 2018
I knew of a boy who cried wolf

He was once a bright soul

Shattered by something he saw

That day

He screamed in terror as we just watched

His cries echoed by the utter silence and oblivion surrounding him

At first we were quiet, then we laughed

But we didn't like him much

So we ate into him if we got agitated

Took our anger out on him if we wanted

After all, to us

All he could do was cry

So the story goes

With no remains to bury

For the troublesome boy

That always seemed to be haunted

By the wolf inside each and every one of us

We didn't deserve him
Roses Are Bed Jan 2018
All the people, all the people
They love to hide and seek
When there's champagne and the bands play
That's when they come

All the people, all the people
They always leave too soon
As they seek out from this lighthouse
No Mayflower
In June

In the room full of people
That always talk so low
When they can't find my best side
That's when they'll go
Oh, all the people, all the people
They won't come back for me
When I sailed home I held on
A Mayflower
Lost at sea

All the people, all the people
Won't let me play hide and seek
When I scream out in this big crowd
There's only me
In the room of their rumors
Of a world I've went to see

All the people, all the people

They never smiled at me
Next page