Le Roos

Just a human trying to have an aesthetic baby. Help.

[dear-rose-days]

For you

I went through a change, not a change per se but perhaps what a changeling would experience. I reached an end but not the end. There was a shift, so peaceful and soft and I was present and became present I reached a self that I thought wasn’t there, that I’d smothered enough versions of myself to find this peace and this calm that’s like a clean string of pearls that I earned to wear so dreamlike and diaphanous and I’m wandering down those old memories and notes to my self and they are an album of notes of love I’ve had for all those past beautiful versions and I’ve loved each one. It doesn’t have to make sense I don’t need applause, an audience or the attention. I am the main act and the star I chiseled out of my soul is more than enough for that shelf I’ve left empty and it is so beautiful. I can sit and say thank you and I’m here and I feel soft and restful and this soul of mine is right where I need it, became the sky and the stars that I look up to and marvel at and I have always been that masterpiece before and after all the hard work and it’s worth the gaze of eyes much kinder and happier and more patient, I have yet to become. Love for you.

You’ll come back to you and your self and I’ll be here waiting, loving, holding, breathing, all for you.

[dear-rose-days]

Memo ‘24

I’ve been reading your past notes to your self.

Gosh, darling. A whole year has swept by without a whisper to you. I’m sitting on that mountain of solitude again. This time with a mirror. A hard truth, learnings and more prayers to send up to the heavens for more stars needed to light my way forward. It’s okay, I’ve got you, cloaked you in sweet, caring words. I’ll help you grow and carve out that next step upwards to your truer self. It’s hard and painful and the blood wells in my thoughts but I can water my gardens and grow bountiful joy - soon to blossom.

Are you coming back? To me. To my dreams. To my hopes. To my thoughts. I am a fountain of love and I’ll become stronger and wiser and my wings will bring me back up. Each feather a piece of wisdom I’ve gathered in my long and winding journey back to me.

I hope you can hear this, years into the future, just like I’ve been sitting here alone gazing back into the past. At your words. At your teachings. At you.

[mephisto-chapman]

Stop censoring yourself ❌

I see this a lot in writing.

You just wanna write something, but then...the idea seems a little crazy. Or you're as afraid to use swear words. Afraid to be yourself because people could find that weird.

STOP IT RIGHT NOW.

I was afraid of my own style of writing, because it's very weird, surrealistic, and shows too much emotion.

But then I decided to stop thinking like this and write a story completely in my own style.

And it was awesome.

You shouldn't be afraid of the way you're thinking and sometimes put your dark side into your stories. Trust me: it has potential.

[dear-rose-days]

Reminder

Hello Darling

I haven’t written in a while. I’ve been pulling thorns out of my heart. I’m pretty sure I was trying to grow some more roses and I ended up sprouting brambles.

I’m bleeding again. But I’ve learnt not to keep the wells full, a deluge is due each time the hive in my head comes alive. A complete firestorm of thoughts and feelings burning up inside and my chest is heaving…slightly. But I’m surviving, darling.

I tried reaching the moon this time and the storm clouds gathered the second my feet left the soil of my soul and I’ve been drifting in and out of grey - shades of grey. There’s lightning in the distance and the pattering of tears or rain or blood from my feet, running through shards, words stabbing, heart pulsing. Do I need a harness for these dreams, these thoughts - should I make a meal of these ashes I’ve been churning up in the hive?

I’m drifting again. The rain? The river of my prayers is filling up and pressing at the banks and my garden is at risk of going under and this time maybe I’ll breathe better under water, under my own caress against the window panes of my mind.

Darling, it’s out now. Out. Take a deep breath. The thorn, the shard? - you’ve ripped it out and now the clouds are shimmering and the lightning is coming back to you and you’re dreaming under the stars you put up - the hive is quiet. The queen has found a new budding rose and it’s called Hope.

[dear-rose-days]

Angel Wings

That’s my prompt, heartbeat - the sigh of a hope in my ear, small “Thank you”s from my lips have dried up and now I’m searching through the winding stairways of my soul for that last brush of warmth and up through the skies and the heavens and all the sweet comets scattering across my eyes and I can just see myself fading just just through a haze. The gentle steps of a doe across my brow, the words are coming from a small book I’ve left on the shelf of my heart, and it’s the last one - a real page-turner. Am I coming back? Am I moving on and do I sound the same? I wouldn’t know, darling. What I do know for a fact is that I’ll be flying, very soon. My wings will come back and I’ll be sleeping in your dreams, swimming in your prayers and diving through the stars, just to get back to you. It’s cold and winter is settling like a white mantle on my spirit but that last page is a burner and from that candlelight I’ll spread my wings out and reach for your dear sweet heart again. And this time, darling, I’ll be right here teaching you how to dance again.

[dear-rose-days]

Spark

My darling, I’m writing again. It’s been some time since I glanced at the mirror - there’s that bee I hear, buzzing and tapping at the glass. My heart is thrashing a bit, like a humming bird caught in a web and the stars are scattering from my sky and the sun hasn’t risen yet. My cup is steaming by the window and it’s dark and my eyes are open but I can’t find my stars or my moon or see the gentle wings brush my cheeks. And I’m walking again through my garden but I haven’t found my self yet - I can hear my footsteps just vanishing beyond the point of the turn, my fingers grazing lightly against the walls to the cold panes of the windows in my eyes and I’m just missing the wings of faith, falling through the sky, to the earth to the soil of my garden where I wait for the roots of my soul to spread and my blood to water my hopes to grow up to heavens where my dreams unfurl and I’m painting the sky with my prayers and I’ll open the door and you’ll be there and I’ll be waiting, growing, breathing…sparking until I am a star again.

[dear-rose-days]

A Dream on the Cusp

Hello My Darling,

I haven’t written in a while and the trees have been whispering and a flame has been shivering and your soul has been quaking. Have you lost yourself a little on your journey? Have dreams been tugging at your sleeves? Or are the stars hiding behind banks of clouds of fears and whisperings and scuttlings and quiverings?

I’ve missed you, darling. But I’m not scared for you, I know you’re coming back and back and back to yourself. Dreaming your dreams, sending your prayers, basking in light and soft soft cares. A bee’s been buzzing around - tap tapping at the glass of the windows inside and that cup has been steaming and tracing your hopes in the air that you’re gasping and laughing and crying at but the sun trickles down from the roots of your hair to your eyes to your tears to your lips and over your tongue and your words flow with the youth and faith and hopes and love from your heart. You’re rooted in that garden and the flowers finally feel like that cleansing rain you’ve been chasing and your feet, padding and tiptoeing along on your journey to the edge of the edge and you’ve always just been there for you. That hand on your chest on your heart on your soul is you and you will continue burning and flickering and skipping from star to star across your sky, ordering the heavens into your map, guiding you back to me to you. And I’ll be there and be there and wait for you waiting for me and your smile is my smile and your heartbeat beating beating back to mine. Weaving your life with those wings and that sky and those clouds and that beautiful dusk that you’re waiting for on your journey back and back and back and that is love.

[dear-rose-days]

Revenant

Oh my Darling,

You are toiling against this writhing cactus of anxiety in your chest and you have ripped out all the feathers in your wings and you can’t hear the bees buzzing or the waves breaking or your heart beating and you’re bleeding out on the bed. My dear, you forget your soul and the journey you have travelled so far on burnt soles and this spindly entity that rips at your chest cavity is all you’re thinking about now but all the Stars in the sky that you have screamed at and all the night breezes that you have fallen asleep to and the birds that whispered to your dreams are all there and caressing you and your tears and your sighs.

Darling, you must get back up and flood that pin cushion with all the Love you have for yourself and your Strength and your Calm. You will assuage this fiery torment because you are a Warrior. You are all the vicious Joy and shrieks of Laughter that will petrify the ghouls clawing at your Peace and are rising again just like you always do. Rising Creature with an intense carnal desire to Survive and Live.

Darling, you are a wolf of Success.

[dear-rose-days]

Paradise in my blood

I have ash on my lips from unspoken words warring in my mind. I can watch silently as the trees shiver in Autumn’s breath. No flickering screens or fireflies at night tracking my thoughts and blinding my sight. Sweetest anthology, flowered lungs whispering my hopes to the edge of night. My ship stranded in the Eye. A journey on foot in dark shadows and blood; written across my chest, mapped in firelight on the firmament of my dreams. A shot of pure hope into the pulse of Life.

And here I am am, wandering down the dusty passageway of my story. Swirling in light and swimming in stars. A phase of the Moon with the soul of the Sun.

[dear-rose-days]

Foxglove Skeletons

Dearest, dearest,

So long you have travelled to the depths of the horizon, across the lake of my soul. Sweetest daze, unspent hours. You did not understand the language no matter how hard you tried to be a darling magpie, repeating all the sounds you heard.

Infantile spirit, in this world, you kept wandering to the edge of the edge, living in the worlds of in between.

Blossom after blossom, you carried a garden in your mind - words so fragrant, to shower on the heads of your closest angels.

Perhaps you’re bleeding a little. From the the soles of your feet, or perhaps deeper? From the centre of your soul. Bleeding outwards into your thoughts and words and tears.

Oh my darling, you’ve forgotten how to dance and smile and square your shoulders back - back to that little child, carrying its dying rose, dying words, sad little heart dancing in circles in a dusty ray of sunlight. Curling up to sleep away from it all. Among the autumn leaves at the lapping waves between the worlds and your softest dreams.

[dear-rose-days]

Majesty

The crown is lifting and the weight is shifting and the pulse is beating.

You know what this means?

Darling, your light at the end of the tunnel is nearing. Fluttering on the horizon. Barest glimpse. Slight shivering of the space and time and you don’t have to think about it anymore.

Soft feather grazing your eyelids like a prayer on your lips. Donna Estefana walking through the garden of your soul. No hands will pluck the blossoms of your heart and they will begin to flourish.

Bare feet, pacing on the sands. Slow movement of the waves. Pulling and pushing like a gentle sigh tugging at the silver cobwebs of your voice that now begins to form new words.

My poetry comes back and back and back and I cradle my self in my arms and I love love love.

[dear-rose-days]

Prudence

You’re sitting on the couch, complete silence. Outside has become an eerie creature, salivating at your door, pressing up against the window panes.

You’re sitting in complete silence. Bracing your self from digging deeper into your thoughts, restraining your hands from clawing at the sparrows darting around inside your chest. Your heart is throbbing with uncertainty and you can’t get a collar on the rantings of your spirit.

You are alone, in complete pure motionless silence. A peace lilly shivers in the breeze. Soft movement. Silent. And you are fixated on the mindless space of eternity in a single second.

The shadows are creeping nearer. Comfortingly. Gently. Tugging at your fortress and you shift your eyes to the sky outside the window. Endless blue. Uninterrupted. Soulful firmament.

You tack another star onto the quiet night sky of your life. You have achieved another victory and your being branches out. And you love the whispering success of your love.

[dear-rose-days]

Villainy

Your crown of thorns, piercing the dawn upon your brow

Trickles out the stars of your consciousness,

The fear in your eyes rings out sweetly

Milk and honey on your breath, crows feet clicking on the windowsill,

The clouds shifting back and forth, shadows gliding over closed eyes

Dusty sunlight dispersing on your calm cool face,

Lips silently moving the prayers of your soul in the breeze

Curled up in your little glass box, the world seems safer, fairer - frightful daydream

You open your eyes, you’re back at your desk - a cool cup of tea at your elbow and a grey morning outside.

I know what a blessing feels like; let me tack on some wings and send it out

[theartofanimation]

Ariduka55  -  http://ariduka.deviantart.com  -  https://twitter.com/13033303  -  http://ariduka55.tumblr.com

[dear-rose-days]

Me

Darling,

I’m in bed under a blanket. The skies are dark and the air is cool. The curtains are still open and life is tinged with a grey film. I’m drifting, hopelessly, on feelings of mellow apathy. I’m listening to music and my thoughts are helter skelter, like snowflakes swirling about in a stray beam of sunlight - brief flickers of dreams. A swallow just darted through my peripheral vision and I become submerged in the white noise of my mind. I’m hoping to break the surface again, gently breaking the surface. So that I can see the stars again. So that my soul can rise above the tide and touch the pale moonlight and all the rushing wings of the sparrows fluttering about inside my chest can finally be set free and my heart can start beating off the chains shackling it. And I know a sunrise is around the corner and I just have to keep taking one step and another and another.

My dear, it’s a well-known secret of survival. Keep this rose on you whilst you journey and know that your bleeding soles are trailing the way to freedom.

The garden of your self-love will be unending. You’ll wake up and realise the price was worth it. Because you will have regained your self and you will have wings to fly again.

[dear-rose-days]

Tea

Alone we sat, nearby the sea

The four of us, all under a tree:

Moon and Sun, a cloud and me

Around a table, a party for tea

The Moon, a crescent, silver and light

Was nodding and sighing, at waves gentle and blue

The Sun of morning, dazzling and bright

Was crooning out rays rose-golden in hue

The cloud was quite vague, all tendrils and coils

Pervading the table and chilling the air

The tree, all white, was rooted in soil -

Rich and solid, and simple and fair

And then there was me, stirring the tea

A spangle of stardust, whispers and dreams

Dancing from cup to saucer to sea

A glimmer of light bursting out at the seams ~

[dear-rose-days]

Truant

Darling,

You are going to be judged for floating your mind up among the clouds and be chastised for letting your dreams skip the leashes of constraint and mediocre absorption. You are going to have to pluck some more feathers from the heavens and stick them into your wings so that you can keep off the ground; tiptoeing around the base vile tinctures that reality is conjuring up for you to drink. And as much as you are parched looking for something refreshing to drink you will not find its offerings sufficient. You’re thirsting for something fresh and crisp and nourishing. Something to satiate your heart. And, darling, that’s why you’re going to have to keep writing and putting words to paper and chasing that cursor across the screen and no matter how much non-sense you are making your soul is divine and thrilled at this dance it is doing because your heart is finally free and you’re soaring and the sun keeps setting but your dreams never do. And you’re alive and your garden of roses is blooming and you will not allow yourself to be bound down and I am slowly enjoying the feeling of being and tracing my fingers along the whispers of my life and this tea, steaming, on the windowsill as i watch the palms swaying to the breeze is everything I hope to capture in words.