Prose Poem - Blog Posts

Summer Breeze

Morning sun blazing through the window panes, curtains that flutter against the summer breeze, butterflies settling on my sunflowers awaiting a dehydrated death as the climate and my forgetfulness; both, deteriorate at the worst possible time.

The faint scent of musky cologne, the brightest streaks of gold in your brown eyes, the ever-growing stubbles of your heart desired moustache and beards of November, your breath warm against my neck, the leather jacket, scuffed denim jeans, classic Vans and the endless songs that run on my stereo are just some of the things I never seem to forget about you.

After all these years, you'd think it'd be easier to wake each day and walk these streets like it was never faulted, like we were never wounded but we marked these places. Every corner I turn, every step I take, every place I go, seems to bring you back afresh in my memories, undead, alive. So, I notice the cracks on the tiles instead, the mundane colours of the bricks, the overwhelming aroma of coffee, and cigarettes, and some other men.

The sky, the way it goes on, never-ending, but somehow different from the day before and will be the day after. Where do the clouds go, how does the sun sustain its own heat, does it get lonely high up there, what does it feel like to fly and why did you leave me here alone? Questions, I never seem to have the answers to. Questions, you loved asking and wondering, your mind, vast like the sky and ocean, never bound by limitations and regulations.

Days have gone by and everything around me has changed, everything except me. I try to explain a love I hold within myself but no, such precious things cannot be put to words. They may ask, but they never could understand. So, I left them thinking I'm clueless and empty, hurt and withdrawn, desperate and wilting but only the world left inside of me knows how I thrive every second of every day when I get your thoughts, the millions of flowers I'll plant thinking of us, the brilliance and words I'll pour onto paper creating illusions for those who'll love our stories, the melody in pain that only I'll understand for years to come and seeing you in every single thing that I do is not a chore but choice. It's serenity.

Summers have gone by and you're not coming back, the ship that set sail for a thing never known to be found - desire, was what had you lost. I understand, this was a journey you had to make, to yield more than you gave, to take what was not yours, to comprehend things left as is, to boost the flames and burn yourself whole. Sometime, not long ago, your soul found its way home and I feel your warmth with every step I take. These steps are heavy but fret not, with the strength of two, I'll make us whole again. So I tried setting sails for a journey I knew led to torments and afflictions, stopped myself half a mile away from paradise, from you. What I needed was something I'll never find. And what I might find, will never be what I need or want. That summer breeze took you whole and I had to let you go...

© Raina Rose.

Liberation

I write this in hopes you’d understand one day, I write this because I cannot speak my mind, I fail to express myself in the right way, I plan to say a million things but when I speak with you, somehow I seem to lose all sense. Even right now, I thought these words will flow out of me easily, but I struggle to string them together. I have always been good with words, I’ve always been able to express myself, at least enough through my writing, but now, I can’t even seem to get that right. For the sake of us both, I’ll try.

I seem to be dead even while alive, it is a little morbid to start it all this way considering how much life you’ve poured into me. Truth is, you surround me even in your absence. You’ve painted my walls in colours I didn’t realize I’d fall in love with, I walk meadows filled with flowers that were once a memory, I hear songs of a love so forbidden and I write eulogies for the lost souls of this world. What have you done to me? All the things that were once filled with love, now stands empty, a dying memory of all that used to be. It is an understatement when I say it hurts, because you used to be such a huge part of me, and then suddenly, we both lost each other and I’m still picking up all these pieces that were supposed to be mine, and I hope you’ve found yours. I didn’t mean for this to break, I didn’t want to make you cry. It’s the first thing I promised you when we met, that I’ll always find a way to make you smile. Now, I stand stranded with an empty promise of mine.

I am sorry, for all that we’ve lost, for all that could have been and for all that we’ll never have. I wanted to do right by you, so I moved away, I created this distance because you always knew what to say. And when you said those things, I knew I’d go running back to you, to where we drove each other mad in the name of love, only to break apart even more, even messier. I cannot predict the future, nor do I have ways of knowing how it will all end for us if we tried again, but right now, this seems to be the best solution for us both and if you blame me, I accept it. I know you never would, but even if a small part of you is mad with me for all of this, then understand that I assent it. I do not walk guilt free, I am not the only victim here, and you are allowed to hate and loathe and despise me. This was never going to be easy, and all this pain I’ve caused you, I wish I could take them away from you and turn it all into smiles.

I am writing this because our conversations never go the way I imagine them to be, I keep telling myself to be as friendly and nice, and easy-going and kind but every time you come close to me, I lose all sanity. I can’t stop thinking about the way your lips curl when you say my name, I can’t help but think about the thoughts that wander your mind endlessly, the things you do that makes you, you, makes me miss you more. I am sorry for being rash, for being uptight, for being unkind, for planting doubts in your mind and heart, for breaking my promise and for letting you go.

I hope you find all the love and happiness this world has to offer and when solitude seems to come easier than the rest, don’t blame yourself either, we thrive better when we’re alone. Don’t cage those words in your head, put them down on a piece of paper somewhere, you’d thank me one day. Give all those rom-coms and love stories a break, but if you don’t, because we have a favorite genre here, make sure you catch up on as much adventurous and thrilling movies, because you can’t survive this world with just love. You’re kind, sometimes too kind to a world that hasn’t been very kind to you. Remember, you’re your own person and no one gets to push you around, be humane but don’t lose yourself while being benevolent. Sometimes, things we do hurt people and the things people do, hurts us, but don’t overthink, don’t shy away or skip moments to avoid that pain, because pain, my friend, ‘pain demands to be felt’. And who better knows that sentiment, than us…

With love always,

Rose.

© Raina Rose.

Every morning I awaken in hopes of finding you under the covers, perhaps on the other side of the bed but our reality keeps us miles apart. I can't help but wonder what coffee tastes like on your lips, if you'd like them silky smooth, or bitterly burnt. Every inch of the day closes in on me, keeping you a constant in my thoughts. Every breeze carried by the wind has a hint of whisper, giggling your name. I long for a warmth I've never felt before, I ache for the touch of your skin, for familiarity, to truly know you. I wish I could come up behind you and hold you close whenever it felt like the world was too much for me, to savour the smell of your cologne that’ll keep me company while you were gone. I wish I could curl into your arms every single day and night, seeking refuge in a love never before seen, to lose myself in you, to lose myself with you. I like to imagine we belonged together in another lifetime, perhaps even one of the past, I like the way we think together, the way you complete my sentences and oftentimes, me. I think of nights spent drinking wine on the streets of Italy and Paris, getting lost in places between the allies and perhaps, in your eyes. Whenever I’m alone again, consumed by the thoughts of us, I hold myself together, praying no one else gets to touch and kiss you the way I do. The way I would...

I like our odds my love, I truly do. 

With love,

Rose

© Raina Rose.

The thing most heartbreaking about it all is falling in love again. It's insanity wanting to repeat the process, taking chances and trying all over again despite the failures and pain, now that, that has to be heartbreaking. To think you've dealt with the worst thrown at you and to crawl back out from under the sheets, with wounds only healing, barely being held by stitches you made half awake in pain, maybe drunk. Why would you want to do it all over again?

To be brave enough to put your heart back out on the line 'cause the last hit and run didn't kill you. Yet. To start a conversation with men who could care less but of course, you manage to convince yourself otherwise in the name of hope these days. To drive yourelf crazy whenever they don't respond or when you get stood up or when you make a comment and that worked before but didn't now and you look stupid for trying. When you do your best to really just be loved but God, they make it so hard.

You get a little more mad each day. Waking up, thinking that the day ahead will hurt less than the day before but we both know that, that statement dissolves away everytime you see him around the corner, creeping into your thoughts and mind with things and words and places that remind you of him. You lose pieces of yourself over time each day and you can barely hold it all together, but you still try anyways.

Then, one day, God gets tired of playing with you so he sends someone your way and just for a bit it seems okay. You don't lose your mind, you start trusting him (because loving wasn't enough) and you tell him things that made you sad, that hurt you, you speak of your demons and pain, not to garner sympathy but in hopes he understands better, in hopes that he will know better. Eventually, you lose track of time and the days drift by and all you do is smile and fill your days with his presence. Slowly, you start falling in love again and when you're completely losing yourself for him, he pulls back without hesitation and now, you're falling, unbound when you should have been held. By the time you realize that you're broken, he's gone, God's laughing and you're back to square one with nothing left but a bleeding mess we call heart, a broken one in fact. Too broken this time around.

So no, the worst always comes after the heartbreak. To be brave enough to try and fail again and maybe there's a beauty in that but it is insanity, really; doing the same things over and over again all while expecting different outcomes. It is heartbreaking. Love is heartbreaking...

© Raina Rose.

You were the song I used to listen to on repeat, knew every beat by heart. I felt every high and low, every key and note, every word and tune and I could tell when you'd end and begin.

Soon, I started getting happy during certain parts, excited even. It was all so good that you'd make me smile just humming you to myself, you'd make me happy playing on repeat in my head.

You were the song I knew I loved, the moment I heard you, and you were the song I knew was close to heart, that I played it for that one special person I spoke to all day and night.

Then one day, he left, and I couldn't hear you the same anymore. I knew it was going to be bad so I stopped listening to you, because I didn't want to associate those feelings with you but that's exactly what happened...

You were always on my playlist and I didn't mind listening to you when you came on the radio every now and then by accident. The sweet memories would last for three and a half minutes before vanishing the same way they'd appeared.

And that's the thing, I wouldn't deliberately play you on my own, that would be too painful and knowing the feelings attached to you, I couldn't possibly punish myself in such a cruel way.

Soon, words that were once meant for happiness, turned sour and I didn't want to dissect the meaning of you other than what I'd already interpreted in my head before.

Now, I hear you once in awhile and maybe it doesn't hurt anymore but it still doesn't feel the same as it did before...

You're the song I once loved, was intoxicated with, knew by heart and you will be the song I'll never listen to again by choice...

I'll never choose you again...

© Raina Rose.

When you've gone through all sorts of alcohol you could possibly consume, when you've danced to every song on repeat a million times, when the walls start to close in on you, when you've kissed twenty different girls and still feel like shit, call me. Call me so I can bring you back home. My love, every journey has an end and even if you've set course for the wrong ones, come back home. Here, we love, we forgive, we fight and maybe drive each other crazy, but here, there'll always be love. I'll always love you despite everything you've done, despite every reason you've given me to fall out of love with you, to hate you. Come back home, it's been far too long. Come back home because my heart breaks a little everytime I see you with someone new. It breaks because you're looking for a remedy you already have. Just come back home, and we'll make this right again...

© Raina Rose.

It is true; the day he fells completely in love with you is the day you won't feel a damn thing for him. Why does it have to be this way? I trace the length of your skin and I used to know my way around you, this was a familiar route, but now, I get lost even when I'm home. I try and listen for the sound of your voice, your laughter, but all I do is tune out and lose you eventually. I knew your fragrance by heart, but I swear, it's fading everytime I think I know exactly what it is. I tried and tried and drank and drowned in bottles of bourbon hoping to taste you again. Cigarette buds everywhere, ashes carried by the breeze, landing over spaces once we used to live. Just the way our melody got lost in this rhythm of wind and time, even if I tried again, you'll never be mine...

© Raina Rose.

It's a choice to be in love, as it is to be hurt by the ones we love. It's often those we love, that hurt us the most, because we've given them the ability to do so. We let them have special places in our hearts, prioritise them, their needs and wants, maybe get a little addicted to their company with more time and similar routines and let ourselves merge as though the process often completes us and makes us whole. Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. But it is a choice, all of it is. And as much as it hurts, that's the beauty in love, to choose to be vulnerable with the ones we love, to give them the ability to see us whole, to see us naked, for all that we are, the flaws and beauty, saints and sinners. We choose to be in love knowing it might just wreck havoc before it's all over. We choose love over and over again, because despite the pain, there is beauty in vulnerability, there is beauty in being hurt by love, by the ones we love. This was our choice, to love and to hurt.

© Raina Rose.

I've ran from you for the longest time, rerouting, changing every course of action, planning, doing and undoing myself a million times in hopes I'd never have to see you again. But after 4 years, there you were, resting amidst the peaceful scenery, shadowing over me, taller than ever, my worst fear came alive again, right before my very own eyes, as we drove past you that night. They don't understand the fear I hold within myself everytime we meet, it has only ended in destruction. Your aisles and walkways were lit dimly as the evening sun set in, all the colours eventually blending into one, yet with all the breathtaking beauty, no one will ever know your darkest corners the way I do. I dwelled in them for the longest time, letting myself suffer without knowing your intentions. I was ruined. A thousand reasons and excuses but I'll always know it was me, it was my mistakes and wrongdoings that led me down the black hole. Amongst my walls and shelves filled with pride and beauty, you and I put together, will always be my greatest disappointment, simply heartbreaking. Wounds and scars I thought were healed, now bleeds through the night, getting rattled by your memories. Morphine, codeine, prescript me something I should intoxicate myself with to forget you, because no matter what I do, all these pain and endless thoughts are fighting the last of me. With every avenue shut, and nowhere else to run, I hope and pray, may I never seek refuge in you again...

© Raina Rose.

I marvel at the mess our life is now. We used to be perfect even when we didn’t have enough, even when we didn’t have anything. We were a family and that’s all that mattered. Now, we have pushed the pictures off the walls, we are breaking down the pillars, walking over shattered glass, bleeding and staining everything we touch. We are drifting apart all while staying together. We wish we weren’t a family, we don’t think we are. It is miserable being tied to people you don’t quite love anymore. We don’t see eye to eye anymore, we can’t talk without raising our voices, we don’t listen to our hearts trying to speak above our voices and everything we once cherished together, is now broken and empty. Our rooms are always kept shut and we reside, locked away from each other, by heart and at home. I tried, so hard. I rearranged the pictures, painted flowers over the cracking walls and pillars. I am holding onto every single one of you despite being pulled in different directions but it’s all shattering now. I wonder, if it is perhaps time, to finally let go...

© Raina Rose.

Come with me into the woods

Where the sky's fogged with clouds

And I'll show you millions of stars

In the deepest parts of the ocean

I'll show you what is air

Close your eyes, shut your mind

I'll show you how it feels to live a dream

Away from the harsh rays of sun

Where all floating dandelions have gone

Will you come with me?

You are right my lady

I'm no one's judge or jury

I lack a heart to know your beauty

Nor am I a commander of truth

What do I say; what do I do?

When I'm just your eyes

Reflected back at you.

Mirror, mirror on the wall;

Save your breath, save your words;

What makes you my judge and jury;

You see an image, not my beauty.

Whoever says mirrors don't lie,

When your very reflection is inverted.

Mirror, mirror on the wall;

Save your breath, save your words;

What makes you my judge and jury;

You see an image, not my beauty.

Whoever says mirrors don't lie,

When your very reflection is inverted.

[What’s the rush?]

Months spent, years lost

several ages of humankind,

Turned to dust.

Searching the meaning

In meaninglessness

Seeking the purpose

In pointless existence.

In the grand universe

Though a tiny particle

Striving to leave a mark

On the earth's chronicle

That's Its own way

of attaining immortality

Conquering the fear of death

And Converging to eternity

But shortsighted as you are,

Didn't stop to think

That writing on the sand

Could be erased in a blink

Could be that your life,

Is one beautiful accident

You shine for a moment,

You exist, and that is the point.

Unlikeable

There's a girl in my class

Bright eyes and golden skin

Everyone loved her

But she's not me

Though I didn't desire her spotlight

But I too wanted to be liked

So I wove a new skin

With golden threads of lies

I wore it everywhere

Hiding me from myself

I smiled a little more

Talked a little less

I put up a good front

Yet it wasn't enough

underneath the fake skin

I couldn't hide the real me

It was so exhausting

“I gave up”

But I still can't figure out

How to be likeable

How does it feel

To be alone in a mourning

Amongst the crowd of people

Singing and dancing

How does it feel

To be not be able to scream

While your heart is being sliced

In thousand little bits

How does it feel

To be burning in a sea

And concealing the scars

Behind a polite smile

How does it feel

To finally realise

How insignificant

Your life truly is

How does it feel

Wanting to be erased

From everyone's mind

While craving the attention

At the same fucking time

Eyes that hold

Million unspoken words;

Lips that are

Afraid to form a sentence;

Heart that cries

"Please, hear my silence."

Already lost

I don't know how I'm holding it together

The cluster of mismatched pieces

I don't know how I'm still standing

Though I am limping all the way

I know you feel those too

The anger, the frustration, the pain and all others

But why do you pass it my way?

Do you think I'm unbreakable?

I wish I was,

I wish I could take everything you give.

But I am a weak thing,

I have to battle every day just to survive

And,

Every time I have to face the reality of life

I lose it

Every time you take your anger out on me

I lose it

Every time I hear the screams of your suffering

I lose it

But you see

Even with all these factors telling me to give up

I always had a reason to fight

But now,

I can't remember it anymore.

Just let me take a breath...

I wish life had a pause button;

I wish I could hide behind a curtain,

Till I'm ready to face the world;

I wish I could take a break,

To gather my strength

And then resume the race;

I'm not saying I'll stop altogether;

Just let me take a breath

Let me take a breath, please...

Alive

I felt each breath seeping into my lungs.

I felt each ray of sunshine that touched my skin.

I felt every gust of wind that blew past me.

I felt all those emotions hidden in my heart.

The sorrows, the love, the dreams and the hope.

I felt the time that ticked by and I didn't care.

I felt my heart beating to it's own rhythm.

I felt the silence telling me something.

Telling me that I'm alive.

And I believed it.

The show I’m currently in with my theatre company opens tonight (I almost missed making my customary opening night eve post, but I think it still counts as long as I do it day of!), but since it’s an original work written by our director, I couldn’t just search up the show on here like I usually do. So, since the show explores themes of home and what it means to be home, to go home, to have a home, and what makes a home, I decided to search up pictures that remind me of the place I still think of as home--the Blue Ridge Mountains. 

I haven’t lived amidst them for nearly a decade now, but there’s still something in me that only settles when I feel the arms of the mountains wrapped around me. I still felt it immediately last summer when we were driving out through Ohio--there’s a point in the state when it passes from flat lands to hills to the edge of the mountains proper, and the embrace of the mountains always feels like a homecoming to me. When we moved while I was in high school, I was sure I’d move back to Virginia as soon as I became an adult, but now I’m 26 and I still live in the Midwest. Most of the people I know back home have moved away; all my closest friends from the street I used to live on are now off in New York or California or Oklahoma seeking their own life dreams, and though I still love the place, it’s harder to return when I no longer know the people. The things that made up my home have been scattered, divided and strewn across the country, leaving me to choose between the places and the people I’ve thought of as home--and often, I choose the easiest thing, staying where I was planted. Home is a difficult thing to find. I don’t mean to get too philosophical and sad; where I am has its own charms, among them the theatre family that sparked this whole post, and there are things I’d miss about here too. 

But when I think of home and what it means to me, I can’t help seeing images like this in my mind’s eye--softly rolling mountains bathed radiant violet in the setting sun’s light, fading to misty periwinkle in the distance beneath pink clouds. If I could stick my face through the screen and breathe that crisp mountain air, take a sniff of those pretty flowers (phlox I think?)--well, my nose would already be deep in the screen, haha. When I mutter wistfully to myself “I miss home”, this is what I’m picturing. I love this gorgeous photo :)

Anyways, we open tonight, and two people dropped out of the show last minute so I’m going to be doing a quick change to a scene that I have only rehearsed with the other actress twice now, so... wish me luck and broken limbs! 

Putting on "The End" and wiping off my makeup in the sharp white light of the hotel room mirror as Gerard sings for me to do so. Thinking about them towelling the bloody bullet hole off of their forehead somewhere, either in a nicer hotel room than this or perhaps on the bus. Picturing all the makeup coming off all the faces of all the fans, rinsing down a thousand drains as adrenaline fades to weariness and the concert high fades to a vague, aching yearning for more. There is a mournfulness at the end of the celebration, but there is yet a celebration in the mourning, a togetherness even still. And after all, is that not what this band is about? The twinned emotions of mourning and rejoicing and the times when the two are inextricable?

Putting on eyeliner this morning for the My Chemical Romance concert and thinking about how many other fans might also be doing this at the same time; thinking about how many fans have done their eyeliner for a show over the years in the past. Thinking about Gerard doing his own eyeliner. Achieving spiritual union with the MCR fandom through slightly messy eyeliner.

Sometimes I cry.

Don't ask me the reason.

Because then,

I'll cry harder.

Talgomine Rock - a prose poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

Photo: taken in spring (September) 2018 at Talgomine Rock Reserve: Everlastings carpet the bush. “The first lily of June opens its red mouth.” Marge Piercy Talgomine RockRains recede to spring orchids in songs of pastel blues and yellows. Wrens fan, flitter, chatter across the sun-bleached granite and are just as suddenly gone. There’s something comforting about the musky soil that fills me, to…

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The Line Meanders - a poem by Paul Vincent Cannon

At dVerse Dora is hosting Poetics with an invitation to write a poem using the ideas of a margin(s) as a springboard. For more detail and resource follow the link below: dVerse Poets – Poetics – Diving Into Margins Image by Ted Erski from Pixabay “You have it but you don’t have it.” John Asbery The Line Meanders The search, the desire, the drive for oneness admits a nexus, a margin of its…

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