After that unexpected visitor, I realized I had to stop contemplating about my crimes. I had to move on.I opened the bag and read through it's contents. I have a new identity. A new face. I am now Angelique Sacerdos , 19 years old. I am an art student in Saint Helena Fine Arts Institute , East Greenwich, Rhode Island. I will be living in East Greenwich with a fellow roommate who goes to the same college as I. Just as I finish reading, a nurse comes in and tells me I can leave and that my medical bill has been paid in full by my visitor. I leave with the bag slung on my shoulder, leaving my stained past back in the hospital room.
A ten minute taxi drive later, I reach the address. The house was quaint, with brown bricks. It was surrounded by a garden brimmed with rosebushes I fell in love with immediately. I always have a penchant for roses. The rose is often associated with love and romance, but I believe that a rose truly expresses promise, new beginnings, and hope.
Even still , I like roses for it's thorns. While many are charmed by the beauty of the flower, if not too careful , one will end up pricking himself by the menacing thorns. This is to show that roses will appear bitter, if not dealt with properly.
I ring the bell and wait for my roommate to open the door.
Just like these roses, I too, am ready to face my new beginning; to make amends for a sinful past.
But this time , I have my thorns ready within me.
YOU ARE READING
Starry Nights and Fallen Angels...
PoetryHere lies the charred remains of her sanity, Which she spends to console herself. On starry nights. With no one by her side, The fallen angel sits on her throne, Beside her , stand her courtiers of stone. All alone; So alone, She crowns hersel...
