Darkness covers me at night, wrapping around as a blanket. Fear guards me as I sleep, like a teddy bear for a child. Tears flow off my cheeks, silently falling upon the floor.
All I feel is the fear within, that's all I've ever felt, all I've ever known. But this new feeling is blossoming within now. It was planted long ago but oh everyday grows and grows. This feeling is growing so strong like a beautiful rose. The fear, like a weed, tries so hard to kill this new feeling, this rose. The rose is fed more and more, it's beautiful colors shining through the darkness, overpowering fear, and drying the tears. This rose is beating my heart and filling my lungs. Flowing through my veins and guiding my steps. This rose is all so scary but welcoming. I've come to know this rose, embrace it, letting it grow. I've come to abandon fear, ignoring it, letting it go. I've come to acknowledge the planter of the rose. I've come to hold this planter sweet and dear. This rose is bursting out my chest in my heart beats, out my mouth with my words, out my fingertips with my touches upon skin, and out my arms through my embrace. This rose. This rose.
YOU ARE READING
I tried
PoetryLife is a series of snapshots. Your memories are the photos, stored away. You often bring out the old, thick photo album and skim through the times you had. What do your photos look like? Are they filled with sunshine and laughter? Are they filled...
