I write because I read. I read because I write.
after Sara Bareilles twirl, twirl, twirl,how long have you beentwirling, twirling, twirling?you're a top. their words make your self-worth spin,"fat arms,fat tummy,fat fingers.you don't drink,how come you havebeer belly?" a cocoon you builtaround yourself, beautiful girl. don't trade your marshmallow-softnessfor their starved hips,beautiful girl.they're blinded by your wings, glittered, come,you, oh you,beautiful girl. — 04.06.2021©2021… Continue reading beautiful girl
yes, for you, a thousand times,a thousand times over.hush. don't roll that question mark out of your tongue.you never questionthe lyrics of hummingbirds'afternoon noon song, never doubted each stroke ofsunset, all hues're never wrong. hush, let lick straightyour forehead knots, come listen, closer, for you, a thousand times,a thousand times over. — 26.05.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading… Continue reading a thousand times: after The Kite Runner
i wish i've puppy-pawsto dig through the muck of this year. i wish i've puppy-eyesto bend my Master's will. i wish i've a puppy-noseto smell happinessfrom a mile. i wish i need not to wish for a real, real smile. — 11.03.2020©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under… Continue reading wishes in the wind
there is a paintingoutside my window, hell magnetingthe day sun's glow. stain of last nightrests on my pillow--- my unraveling with moonlight's bow. feels a few feet frommy reach, the sky, if only dusk can give me wings to fly. — 10.20.2020©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under… Continue reading hell’s window
if moon is made of cheesei will call it mine,every night, i'll sink my teethto its gooey-divine. if moon is made of cheesei'll swim in pools of wine,to drown the emptinessof our mattressed-shrine. if moon is made of cheesei'll drink its yellow shine,to cheer the longing of my autumn, drooping spine. if moon is made… Continue reading cheese moon
ebb and flow goes the salty, blue sea, how many seashells has it robbed from thee? may they be conch filled with your childhood dreams, or the prayers of your aged-mind’s streams, may they be shell-hearts you’ve always long to hold, too sharp to touch, too tough to mold, or perhaps a silent wish your… Continue reading wait on wheat
fingers bumbling onblank spaces of boththe web and the tree's skin.grabbing yellows frombumblebees to paintsunsets where freedom wins. stirring orange fromdawn to make a cupof giggling cinnamon. stealing sweetnessfrom apple's bum---to have some sanity won. — 08.25.2020©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International… Continue reading steps to stay sane: a quadrille
brown, a burnt one, is the colour of this table with edges as perfect as the borders of some nations with OCD in geometry, atop there are tea, two types, the calming chamomile i take during those days of the month because it helps relieve the cruel clenching of my ovary, and there is green… Continue reading on borders and tea
murderer. i am a murderer of eight. eight innocent lives my hands without green thumbs have ended the purple garden of eight eggplants. i was 15. since then i've not tried to get my fingers dirty, afraid to be a murderer for the ninth time. — 08.11.2020 ©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo… Continue reading missing thumb: a quadrille
gone are the days of a clear, singing underworld now icebergs are made of forgotten plastics half way, photographed before it fin'lly sinks, sea turtles're choking with once-kissed resin straw have we peeled your rainbow scales with our cruel claws? — 06.24.2020 ©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via Unsplash This work is… Continue reading mer-made
