Dear You:

Remember the orchid you bought me for my birthday?

Well, I killed it.

Not on purpose.  As a matter of fact, I tried everything I could to keep it alive.

Just like I did with our relationship.

I watered that orchid, but then it started to shed its petals.

So I stopped watering it for a little while.

I let it soak up sun and fresh air, but then its broad leaves started to yellow.

So I left it in the shade of my bookshelf.

I stopped smoking cigarettes inside. I rotated its pot.

But it continued to wither.

I looked up how to tend to this plant, how to help it thrive indoors.

Maybe I didn't research enough.

I babied it, but it didn't perk up, so I gave it some space.

I stopped touching it, instead I talked to it.

But still that birthday gift perished.

The death of that orchid made me realize that, sometimes, the more you try to care for something, the more likely it is to extinguish itself to escape the oppression of someone's concern.

Just like we did.

I've thought about what I've wanted to tell you for three years now, but I can't say that I've figured it out yet.

Yet here I am, trying. 

You think I would have learned to give up by now, but here I am persisting.

Since you gave me that orchid, I've tried to nurture other plants--most of them heartier than the one you gifted me.

I was too preoccupied trying to keep that one alive that the rest have either perished or thrived---thrived because I gave them up to someone else's care.

But I think I'm finally learning.

A few days ago, I upturned that special pot you nestled the orchid into last September.

For months its drying skeleton sat perched atop a stack of books--a constant reminder of my perceived failure: my failure of us, my failure of that once beautiful blooming organism.

In doing so, I discovered roots bound and rotted.  How long they had suffered that way is hard to tell.  

In doing so, I finally discovered that I may not have been to blame.

Maybe it was bought that way--flawed and destined for an early death by design.

Maybe you nor I had anything to do with our ceasing to be.

Maybe we just had to cease.

Regardless, I carry our history in my heart, but it's starting to weigh less with every moment that passes.

I carry it with me as I carefully water and rotate the growing bulb I planted in a freshly prepared pot.  I carry it with me so I know how to keep thriving. So I know what to do and what not to do, and how often.

I'll love you long after that orchid's marrow rots into the ground.

And afterwards, I'll still be grateful that, at one point in our discourse, you saw the beauty of that exotic plant fit to share with me.

Yours In Bloom,

Me

I never wanted to go to a school dance. That was one of my biggest goals of high school. However, life is funny and I got chosen by my club to be nominated for homecoming court. And with that BIG responsibility, I had to buy a ticket to the homecoming dance, yippie! While I'm there, everything was nice and smooth, nothing major or significant happened. That is until the announcement came for who would be on the homecoming court. Guess what happened. I got chosen! It was pretty exciting and I was actually pretty proud of myself. Now this is where things get FUNNY. After I got all the info about the next week's activities, I walk back into the dance floor only to be met with two friends who picked me up on their shoulders and carried me across the whole room! This was awkward and amazing at the same time! But then security told them to let me down. But this is the even FUNNIER part of the story. I have a friend, Vanessa, who is the varsity head cheer leader, and she told me before I got on the court that she wanted to dance with me. I didn't actually think that it would happen, but sure enough, it did. So I thought that I was gonna just do my two step like my brother taught me and that that would be good enough. NOPE. She did this incredible body movement stuff that memorized the inner workings of my brain. I had no idea what to do so I just grabbed her hips and two stepped. The most embarrassing thing is the fact that I kept stepping on her toes and for some reason I couldn't stop saying, "uh ... Uh.... UH..." I was way too into the feels.

                      Fin

This is the story of One.

And how he came 

To be.

He ran from Three,

and headed to the skies.

For One was free, 

at least, 

he had to be.

One reached the clouds,

and floated 

Five years.

He looked over the valleys,

and saw 

what made him 

Sick.

Seven marching a row, 

Eight standing still,

Nine obeying orders, 

and Zero,

at the root of it all.

One fell off, 

with nothing less than grace,

and knocked down Zero.

One whispered to Nine 

secrets he's seen.

Without a tune or beat,

One danced with Eight.

He chased Seven in sport 

and created a game

that soon Six joined inand dominated.

Five formed a new alliance,With Four striding with pride. 

Three surrendered.

They followed 

One's shadow 

hoping 

To be

the next

One.

(I don't do much poetry...I thought I would give it a shot.)

I hate that I smile when you laugh

I hate that I laugh when you speak

I hate that I find myself staring

I hate that I find myself caring

I hate that I feel sad when you do

I hate that I hurt when I see you

I hate that I bury my thoughts through you

I hate that I find my peace beyond you

I hate that I cant find a better sadness

I hate that I find peace in sadness

I hate that I found you

I hate that I love you

So does that make me you're fool?

Cause I'd hate it if I did.

I see your face

Reflected in mine

The eyes boring

Through solid flesh

Watching

Appraising

So familiar

Yet, sometimes,

So inscrutable

Almost alien

As if we'd never met

#prosechallenge #photopoetry

I have never loved a boy so untamed

unsure if he's cold wet pleased or afraid

the harbor of my arms awash in waves

he holds me like I might fly away

oh his eyes are a hurricane

by moonbeam smiles are they framed

a lighting pole his body sways

faith in a fate he'll never claim

we brave the storm- who runs from rain?

Memories I have created,

will slowly start to dissipate

as they fade away, from 

my mind and into the past.

Soon, I will grow old,

and I won't even remember

my own name, or the lines

which makes its home

in the palms of my hands,

or the creases which have

nestled on my face.

Faces I once recognized,

will blur as time wisps by,

destroying me of my youth,

as I fight to hang on, to 

the only constant in

my life: Words.

I tear another page

from book of life,

scarred by bloody ink.

Flooding water slinks in,

drowning me

with sorrow tears,

inflicting lasting lacerations

of melancholy misery.

I struggle to escape

the hounding fetters

of darkening life,

running into arms

of headless corpses.

Maniacal winds shove

me back with howls

but no sound surrounds

my evasion from reality

as bowels of dank earth

swallow me whole

with toothless spite.

I shift desperately

to Plan B before rescue

sneaks past my torso,

ushering me in

to nowhere place.

Seeds of withdrawal

lie in fallow land

as I keep moving,

but my fate

is black and white,

because I can’t

breakout from

the impending claws

of never-ending.