I fear that I’ve been blinded by your love For once you weren’t there things became tough I assumed my happiness was in your presence So I made my perfume from your essence Sprayed it everywhere so I’d feel you It was dominant while your emotions weren’t true All the lies you fed me left me in terror False hope you gave me but I deserve better Fortunately, I have my family and friends Ones I can rely on while my wounds mend They have always been there for me And now the best version of myself I thrive to be My experience with them taught me so many lessons Some I wouldn’t have learned by myself I reckon Many people who are in my life will eventually depart But only true friends will leave a footprint in my heart.
Your charming perfume .. sneaked into me ... within my soul ... took me ... out of nowhere ... where i don't know to no where ... there ... where are you ... where always ... my soul roams for you ... to play with my breaths ... hymns of love ... to sing it ... with my mind ... as love song ... sings with your name ... to fly so high ... while singing your name ... to break up ... the distance ... between us ... to be with you ... inside your nest's heart ... there where could you be ...
your charming perfume ... is always ... my pathway ... where i get you ...
A mellow nose Gorgeous as the moon Mirrored in the lagoon
Your skin is tender Your uniqueness is beauty Of previously not seeing your splendor Your smile makes me guilty
Love is your center Kindness, your vitality Light in the dark, a magic mender Goddess of purity
White rose A perfume dose Peaceful as the moon Mirrored in the lagoon
Your scent is the trip And Paradise is my fate If constantly smelling your friendship Becomes an open gate
I will be your grip For when you are desperate Just accept the bee that wants your lips To pollinate your fate
White rose Striking a Pose Shiny as the moon Mirrored in the lagoon
This is the first poem of the second chapter, and it is supposed to show my new found love for this new person I met that made me feel amazing after a moment of despair. I gave her this poem adorned with real white roses to show my appreciation for her on her birthday. Coincidently the page and chapter that "White Rose" falls in my anthology is the date of her birthday, February 22nd.
I love the smell of orange most. It doesn't go well with purple, but it represents everything I am not.
I make up for my lack of sunshine by wrapping it around me, a neckerchief in any season. I cover up the cracks that leak blue, the scent of the sleepiest lavender. I'd rather be gold, a heady sharp awakening - compared to the wispy breeze that settles on my shoulders. I am tired of sleeping when I'd rather be citrus, shining.