Thoughtful Transit Flowers by AntifreezeKisses, literature
Literature
Thoughtful Transit Flowers
Each minuscule silken petal
of the orchids cried romance
unto each passenger's ears.
They were not for a particular occasion,
but simply to convey love.
I held them tight,
seated on the transit bus,
as if they were my children,
and I their compassionate mother.
White curls of age
and a soft maroon floral dress
held the elderly woman together.
She, seated adjacent to me,
smiled sweetly,
and kneaded her wrinkled hands.
"For your girlfriend," she told me.
"What a lucky young lady."
Fleshy lips curled
into the gentlest smile
I could muster.
"For my boyfriend."
Those words seemed to pierce
the old-fashione
Half-asleep
Partially dreaming
Wondering
How I can
Forget to eat
For three days straight
Just because
You spoke to me
Drug induced
Sleep reduced
Nauseas
Infatuation
With
Candy-coated narcotics
That dance like rainbows
Over
Things I refuse to want
Refuse to
Throw the alarm clock
Out the window
Let this sleep last
A few more days
Reveries through
Blasphemy
In the shape of
Sunrays
Running stunted stum'bling soldiers
soldier on with all their cunning
gunning down without a sense
of wickedness or innocence
face to plaster blaster walls
wallowing in their disgrace
trace amounts of small remorse
flicker through the brutal force
smoking ruins tune in laughter
laughable to think their joking
weeping windows drip with flame
o'er reckless revolutions game
a civil vigil's what remains
remnants of a darker day
gray ashes and smould'ring sky
under which their mem'ries lie...
Unfathomable.
In the most disgraceful manner imaginable
you ignored my pleas,
my polite questions,
all the times I tried to remind you
of my one sole need.
I shouldn't be in this state,
so pathetically
rendered mute
and dependent on others' help
to express the smallest of thoughts.
In my exile of silence
I watch your futile attempts
to cure me
and return my shredded voice.
But will you repair
this broken form of mine
instead of indulging yourself
in the guilty pleasure
of simply finding a new me?
Well-worn wings are what we wear
To navigate skies of despair;
Breaking ties from what was sworn
Our fledglings fall, their souls reborn.
Well-worn wings are what we need;
Shed and frayed in times of greed.
Like sails upon forgotten masts;
They are reminders of our pasts.
Well-worn wings will travel far
Lets soar away, land on a star!
Lets fight the urge to speed away;
Lets save our flight for another day.
From well-worn wings well take our scars.
Gifts tied with strings, but not labeled as ours.