roseberry

'my mind is full of stories and my heart is full of song'

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  • roseberry 16w

    midwinter

    i'm so sorry but
    i'm sad again.
    i can't seem to keep myself steady, rein myself in.
    i know you hate it when i cry like this-
    all winter-blue and shaking hands, pressing pillows to my mouth as though they'll keep the sorrow in.
    i wish i felt happy the way i feel down. i wish I felt strong the way i feel softer
    than a kitten's ear.
    my hands are stiff from throwing punches. my throat burns from swallowing the grief.
    i just want to lie down and rest with you here to hold me but
    you're gone, you're gone
    it's a funny sort of thing, i think, to miss so desperately the one who broke your windows
    ©roseberry

  • roseberry 29w

    drunk

    scarlet smiles, in between sips.
    delightfully mellow,
    sweet blue eyes chasing the moonlight
    as it fell across the cold wooden floor.
    long slender fingers tapping
    one two three one two three
    against the tin cup.
    lost in dazy thought and deep earthy merlot.
    i could drown, i kept thinking.
    i could put my hands on my heart and i could drink this life into my soul.
    when they offered me another glass i turned them down.
    i closed my eyes and wondered if the blood in my veins was redder than rich cherry wine.
    ©roseberry

  • roseberry 29w

    byline

    once strangers, then friends, to lovers and back
    we traveled the lonely shore
    i think you'll linger in my mind
    and i know i in yours

    to every last wish and stolen gaze
    i owe my sealed heart
    i might have prayed to love again
    but i'm far too scared to start

    i wish you nothing but the best
    for this pride does not become me
    i care too much to keep you
    because you're alive and i'm unlucky

    we wrote stories we wished we could read
    put on plays and forgot all the lines
    we got lost in the magic of dreams so
    for your sake, i won't say goodbye.
    ©roseberry

  • roseberry 29w

    ulysses

    when will i be satisfied
    everything's romanticized
    i stand here waiting, wanting, needy
    begging someone to choose me, keep me
    it's not enough. it never is.
    i come in last but i want to win.
    give me salt and it's not sweet.
    bring me water i won't drink.
    on a journey; on my way
    will you keep me? can i stay?
    ©roseberry

  • roseberry 29w

    solitaire

    waking up blind with the memory of someone
    tattooed bone-deep in my dreams
    it's been several years and i still miss my somedays
    but each breath now feels like a relief

    pinprick in the middle of a bustling city
    too small to really be seen
    on sundays i'm napping on my red leather couch
    because nobody called me this week

    it's not like i mind being lost in this haze
    i've got places to be; i've got something to say
    there's something so peaceful about being alone
    i'm my own lover and i'm my own home
    ©roseberry

  • roseberry 29w

    melancholy

    there's a gap in my window
    that lets in the cold
    and i'll keep watch in dresses
    that i'll wear when i'm old
    i'm opening letters
    and i wish i felt better
    drunk on the wine
    that you kept on my shelf
    i've got nobody's roses
    so i sent them myself
    the music is tinny
    but it sure does sound pretty
    from the record that you bought me when you said you were sorry
    and i still keep it here
    for a little melancholy
    ©roseberry

  • roseberry 29w

    love

    is too soft.
    pink shiny lips that press together too-thin
    when she looks out the window.
    that glossy-eyed stare,
    twisting fragmented fingers in her lap.
    that saccharine hope oozing from every pore,
    rosy skin choked with wishing, teeth dull from waiting.
    china face splintered, stubby chipped nails.
    and still she opens wide her sullied arms.
    the cruel wind may blow her over,
    dandelion fluff like wilted daydreams.
    she breathes too high,
    too fast, her thinning chest wheezing a tinny melody.
    perhaps once she was beautiful, but now she's broken.
    she doesn't know where she lost the key.
    she doesn't remember if she ever had one.
    ©roseberry

  • roseberry 29w

    pawn

    every second i picture with you is a hole in my heart.
    everything i thought i loved about you was of my own making. and my own mind cannot conjure up flesh and blood.
    a heady, poisonous mix of your hemlock and my sage.
    a potent, wicked game i played, taking you to be my pawn.
    did you know? did you want me as your queen?
    or did you walk on solemnly, only content to be kinged solo and unhinged?
    my body throbs as my shoulders collapse inwards. my wings are tattered and i can see through their gauzy exterior to my hollow stained cheeks.
    ©roseberry

  • roseberry 29w

    actress

    i don’t want to be myself anymore.
    it hurts too much.
    they have always asked me,
    why i change souls and voices
    like i change my clothes.
    why i cannot bear to be
    in one body for too long.
    they whisper my name.
    she’s someone else, they say.
    sad eyes when she’s not
    a victorian lady, or
    a tidy housewife, or a child.
    heartbroken in reality
    and a facade everywhere else.
    but i taught my heart
    to still so much it cannot beat anymore.
    i can feel it rising in my throat
    but i cannot feel its steeliness.
    i feel cold air over my body
    like someone opened the lid to my grave
    but the fear will never reach my bones
    like the sadness does.
    i cannot find my own heart
    because i spent so, so many
    godawful years burying it
    impossibly, irretrievably deep.
    ©roseberry

  • roseberry 29w

    exhale

    the streets of cambridge
    do not know me,
    blurred by the settling fog
    or by the tears welling in my eyes
    i do not know. i can see
    the faint outline of the buildings
    and the hazy lights of passing cars
    as i walk, forgetting with each new step
    where i set out to go at all.
    my breath puffs in front of me.
    my eyelashes drip with rain.
    i can’t breathe anymore.
    i can’t take in enough oxygen
    to fill my aching lungs.
    ©roseberry