THE WHITE ROSE PAINTED WITH BLOOD

xviii - come, let's go home pt. 2; december blues passing by like shades of you

a/n: listen to the music below while reading this if u want <3

blue banisters, blue cafes, blue decembers, passing by like hues of you.

the pages of these old sketchbooks, from 2002 and 2003, sketched with a roadmap of my heart. binding torn and covers dull & faded, hidden with secrets and pages pressed with white roses now tearing at the seams against rough scribbles of the catastrophes of this fleeting life.

pages, of seasons, of december blues, passing by like shades of you.

i sit in my makeshift studio, trapped within the panels of my own art. patchworks of watercolor streaks over the floor, layered over one another and creating my ultimate piece, a piece called time.

december blues, passing by like shades of you.

my phone rings and your name glitches into view, like clarity in hues of melancholy moments. your voice fills my head a few seconds later.

"could you come over?"

"hmm why?"

you laugh. you're breathing heavily for some reason.

"i think i'm drunk," you laugh again, sounds blurring and muddled like trembling shadows smudged in the memories of my heart.

"where are you?"

"i- i don't kn..." your words break off as if you'd forgotten what you were going to say.

"alright, i'm coming to get you,"

"to where?"

"home. let's go home,"

🌃🌠

the people on the streets come and go like fleeting daydreams from the depths of my imaginations, shadows of december blues, passing by like shades of y o u. their coats and scarves seem still as they walk through the snow that fell as if it were in slow motion, as if time was freezing from winter too.

the city lights flash like the coming and going of colors, snow barely dusting the sidewalks. turning gray streets silver. dusting the top of my red umbrella with pale splatters of watercolor paint, brushing the tips of my eyelashes like forgotten gems from an era long ago.

and again, a faraway feeling washes over me. like ocean waves. as foreign as bliss and as familiar as melancholy. the feeling that this reality is just a sea of people, and i'm drowning in perfect blue.

drowning.

wind chimes tinkle from shop windows, windows coated with warm lamp lights. the stars blur bright, blending with the snow flakes. the sky, a patchwork of mystery, frozen in space, a tragedy.

my breath blooms like white roses against the cold december sky.

passing like shades of you.

i remember, of those mornings we spent in the blue cafe, reading poetry and talking like we were never strangers. of those moments when you'd rest your chin on your hand, elbows propped against the tabletop. you'd turn your head sideways and look out the glass windows, at streets of december blues passing like shades of you. you looked so much happier. i wanted to be the one to make you happier.

but oh, despite the light that glows in your warm, empty eyes sometimes, they still lead to the words sketched over your heart: i love you, but i'm leaving soon. sorry, can't save me now. i love you, but i'm leaving soon. sorry, can't save me now.