rosy 🌹

misc untitled poems from my notes app ;P

[rosehyeok]

something about how the sun bleeds through the windowpane,

pen to paper, ink passing through the fibers of the glass

it makes me want to cry 

in the foolish technicolor of youth.

im not usually like this

but my vision is blurring pink at the edges

and somewhere there are birds singing

and for a moment everything can be beautiful if we make it.

flushed cheeks and bitten lips

bruises blossoming on skin in spiderweb fractals

and tears overflowing

sinking into brittle bones

skin rattling against hollow skin

innocence slipping away into the watercolour sunset

dawn transforming into dusk,

pink flowers blooming in the windowsill

i looked into your eyes       searching for a muse

or, in other words, a beating heart

red drawn over, correcting the wrong shades of pink

wrong thoughts, wrong place and time

i cracked open my ribs like the shell of a pomegranate and took out 

my organs one by one, seeds leaking ink on my flesh

       because youth means regeneration,

starting over.

sunset means morning is coming;

a new sun is a new dawn

same flesh, ink-stained and heavy

youthful innocence wears off, pink fades to red:

cloudy eyes, kaleidoscope cataracts

— and everything is a little more beautiful when refracted

without you blocking the light.

[rosehyeok]

i sprout wings when i want to fly

there is nothing beautiful about that.

how my deepest desire rips open my flesh, new bones protrude, sinews and muscles creeping around them like vines

in this grotesque state i have strength only to writhe in pain, soaked in the blood of my shoulderblades

original sin:

a reminder that i cannot have everything i want

that hubris will leave me broken in god’s shadow

His scorn is cold but the sun will be warm like the flames of hell

[rosehyeok]

i told the laundry on my floor to wait a little longer

until my work is complete

but the day has passed

my schedules free now

today i am a failure

tomorrow i will do my laundry and pretend it fixes me

[rosehyeok]

today i am too sad to close my door

the warm glow of the light from the kitchen reminds me im safe, like the nightlight i slept with until 8th grade

i pretend im not sad but i am

when my mother walks by my door ill engage in plesantries from the dark of my room

wasnt i pathetic to need a nightlight so long?

arent i pathetic now to need it again?

reassure me for a second:

tell me im not broken

please dont turn on my light

i cant stand the brightness

if you look hard enough under it you can scrutinize my sins

dont turn on my light --- but dont leave my doorway

dont close my door

im not ready to be alone quite yet

[rosehyeok]

i pray like its an art

-- ive never been one for creating. too much effort only for it to turn out badly

but pray, praying i can do

i will speak to the empty sky and ask for favors that will turn out badly - or worse, unfruitful

but pray, i persist

clutching all i have - my other hand

[rosehyeok]

i find myself a captain

guiding my ship through the unforgiving waters of time

but its rewarding work---a good enough captain coasts smoothly

and i am the best of them all

perhaps its my ego that doomed me

causing me to overlook the obstacles in my way.

as my solid ship cracks

waves of memories flood over me and somehow, i remember you

if i blink, im not a captain anymore

im not in a deluded fantasy world

im in the real world

and i get up to the sound of my alarm

i trudge through the day, drinking coffee in the morning and checking the clock by lunchtime

but standing alone i feel memories of you rush over me like waves again

cold, harsh, relentless

somehow, i cant stay dry.

im shattering into pieces and water slips through the seams of my being

i see you everywhere i go

in everything i do

because we used to be so intertwined and now you're just water filling my lungs---something i must expell, but strangely i refuse to

im silent when water slips through

like the ocean itself, no words can be spoken

maybe i just miss you a lot.

[rosehyeok]

you asked me what it was i missed.

whether it was the people, the place, or the time;

— i didnt know how to tell you it was everything and nothing.

i didnt know how to explain to you that i missed the way the waves lapped the shores

i didnt know how to tell you it was different from the water here,

how the sun shone brighter in my rose tinted memories

i didnt know how to say it without hurting your feelings

that i wished we’d never met

but it sounds wrong when i say it like that, so let me try again.

i didnt know how to say it without hurting your feelings

that i wish i’d never left

something in my misty memory tells me life wouldve been kinder to me back there

i dont think i wouldve missed you if we hadnt met, the way i miss the people i never met

but it sounds wrong when i say it like that, let me try once more.

i miss people ive never met, you understand, dont you?

i miss things i never had, dont you get it?

why do you shake your head at me?

my mother’s hair has turned gray and my father has wrinkles

if we could just go back maybe they would turn pink.

if i went back you wouldnt be there

but it sounds wrong again, give me one last chance.

if i went back i wouldnt be myself

— id be someone different entirely

— and you wouldnt even like that version of me

— and we never wouldve met anyways

— dont you ever think about if that happened?

you stand up at walk away but your back is the same color as the sand on that beach.

[rosehyeok]

i saw a bible on the side of the road

pages fluttering in the wind

i wondered who lost their faith out the window of their car

what pious person had brought their bible with them on the road? what person had a bible trying to escape their clutches?

the pages kept stuttering in the breeze of passing cars, flapping like wings

i knew it was trying to fly up to its maker

but it was too heavy

too weighed down with ideas of sin

maybe this isnt about that bible that i picked up off the side of the interstate

--- the book that i crossed two lanes of traffic to stop my car in front of

--- the one with the scratched, worn leather cover

--- the one that had lost its gold lettering

or maybe thats all it is.

anyhow, no matter how hard this bible tries to fly away from me, up into the heavens

my sins will bring it back down to earth

[rosehyeok]

if you're comfortable enough, you should def consider writing a poetry book!

hi anon this is so nice i just kinda write stuff in my notes app when i feel motivated tho hehe 😸

[rosehyeok]

stab me in the chest

call it “planting a tree”

no one ever admires the soil but

i will nurture this seed.

it will be my fault if i dont give enough,

if it doesnt grow straight, strong, and tall

this is the soil’s burden

but if i do my job right no one will remember i did a job at all

the work i did accredited to the tree itself

or maybe you, the planter, the absentee gardener

get on your knees next to me and pray for forgiveness as you tend to my wounds

the wounds you gave me

feel the ache of guilt weigh on your chest, your shoulders, your hunched back

smother me with water and tell me it will heal my pain

you will pretend it heals yours, too

in the spring it will flower

if i time it just right

and the falling petals will litter your yard

you will call it beautiful as i shed what remains of my skin

under the hot summer sun ill give everything i have left to bear fruit

just like you always wanted

— because all you ever wanted from me was something useful,

something i couldnt be.

i would forgive you now for any pain if you take my sacrifice

pluck a piece of fruit off a branch, take it in your mouth, but dont let the juice dribble down your chin

dont waste all ive given now.

this is what you wanted

no, you dont have to admire me, i relinquish that right

all i ask now is that you cradle the beauty i nurtured from the pain you caused

[rosehyeok]

sometimes i wish to die tragically young. young enough that ill be remembered as a prodigy, someone who would be someone someday, someone that would amount to something someday. it would be devestating, the weight of my death. a young girl with a promising future, life cut short too soon---what could be worse? my friends and family would all sing my praises at my funeral, eulogies of feats upon feats that werent mine. exaggerations of a dead girl to dramatize it, make it sadder than it has to be. because after death, i would become something more than i ever could in life. a martyr. a figurehead of those who would never amount to anything. my potential could never be fulfilled so how could i continue to live?

i know someone at my funeral would remember me for my talents. ones that were never there.

people who arent prodigies have never wished to die young. theyve never wished to fall terminally ill or get t-boned or terribly murdered in the inky night. no - normal people will never have the potential i had.

[rosehyeok]

people tell me i shine like the sun and you like the moon

im bright no matter the case

and you have a sense of normalcy my hyperactivity wouldnt allow

-- to this i must disagree

my brightness is simply a reflection of yours, a fractured

mirror distorting your true image

i shine brighter in the darkness accompanied by nothing but inky black

whereas your constant shine seems ordinary next to neon sky

when the sun sets of course its the moon thats most obvious

it is only because of you that i can be a shining face in a darkened crowd

[rosehyeok]

apologies are a foreign language to us

when we're head to head

its almost like i can read your mind.

the unknown words get stuck behind my lips,

caught in my throat,

can you read my mind?

apologies are an ancient language

a delicate one

passed down from predecessor to successor

a language long lost to time

by our forefathers who were too stubborn

to read the writing on the wall.

we dont speak in apologies

i cant write on the wall

but can you see the writing on my heart?

in the dinner i offer to make you?

writing on my hand when i reach out,

writing on yours when you reach back.

we cant read the writing

but head to head we'll figure it out.

[rosehyeok]

where did i get this rage?

from my mom,

whose constant simmering rage marked

each day?

or my dad,

whose quick intense flashes of fiery rage

leapt through once each blue moon?

this anger

i hold like a deep mourning

that which my mother imparted like

a life lesson

or

that which my father thrust into

my young hands?

[rosehyeok]

its odd

im groggy and disoriented in a nostalgic way

i just cant quite pinpoint where i am

my footsteps echo in the hallways

the air still smells the same -

sweat

desperation

youth.

somewhere i hear phantom laughter

the high pitched hyena like sound

all too familiar

this is high school again

i stand up straight, no longer leaning against the cold metal lockers as a teacher passes by

i turn to my friends and whisper in fervent giggles

i find myself in the auditorium

seated next to my friends

joking as the principal takes the stage.

"you're one year older now," she says.

no one else stops smiling but me.

how is it that im one year older?

im 14

sitting on my floor

staring at my ceiling wondering

what ill do with my life.

then again how well do i remember my 14 year old thoughts?

my 14 year old body?

arent i still 14?

i find myself again in the auditorium

sitting alone.

14 year old me takes the stage.

"who are you?"

[rosehyeok]

i could take everything for you. anything you need me to, i will. place it in my hands. your stress, your worries, your dirty dishes and torn shirts. ill take care of it all. i only want you. breathe tenderly. i would tear the fabric of reality for you. i would learn to sew just for you.

[rosehyeok]

ive never felt this way before

a sensation id been chasing after,

yearning for,

all my life

is this love?

pinch me quick

-- id let you

tell me its real

tell me this is real

you want me

and all ive ever wanted is in my hands

darling if you pinched me

you'd be gone.