Every petal I kept with me of the blossom, even when it got dried up. Like, the sun glinted on the flower harshly. I feel that’s how it looks when you bestow all of yourself to a soul. Even the drizzle couldn’t make any difference, even the bees didn’t come back to their love.
I suffered like that burnt flower that day when you were holding that rose like your baby, feeding it by your love and devotion. I felt helpless. Incapable and vulnerable for your love.
Nodding my head I waved, but can I tell you that was the last time I felt emotionally drained. You were my last hope of fighting with my anxiety. That hope which comes when I see a peacock dancing gracefully even when her paws are flawed.
I’m in a place where being greedy for you is alright for this selfless heart. Maybe there is something on my way better, but will it lead to me being contented?
I want you to shine when my sky is all black, I know my moon has all the serenity and gleam. You are my deepest sea, where I see all the insanity of mine, unheard and unseen but yellow like the daylight. Have you seen how beautiful the rays look? All the jolliness dwells together.
I’m guilty in love with the almost peace in the word. Maybe that why when I see you holding those thorns covered hands, bleeding for someone who wounds you, unseeing your undertakings which makes me numb.
As seeing you getting distressed by someone, is torturing for the one you saved.
Land back to me, but come back when it’s intentionally. Without seeing my bruises, without enclosing my wounds. As when you cover them, you neglect to see them. Do my bruised arms creates fear within you or am I just overthinking as I did before.
I want you to see all my scars in my body. Engraved by my experience of misogyny. Facing all the things my past years did to me not to make you feel awful but to make you believe that I’m a goddess, my faiths prevail after getting damages too.
Maybe these beliefs occur to me every time, maybe in my fantasies, you are mine.