V Day

I recently had to write a poem for my favorite course (you guessed it - creative writing!) and I thought I'd share it on the occasion of v day. Last year, y'all saw a love poem and this year you will also see a love poem. BUT. It's not your conventional love poem. It's a bittersweet heart-broken poem but here's why I decided to share it this v day - a heart that was not broken is a heart that never loved. 

This is definitely not my best work but meh - I will not denigrate my work because this v day is all about self-love for me. My girls and I are actually ordering brownies and Korean bread for a very-needed GALentines LOL. I hope y'all are having a self-loving, self-appreciating valentines today, too. As I said last year, love isn't all romantic. I learned that this year. Having my heart broken taught me that there are so many other forms of love that I have been surrounded by all my life that I never noticed before. Take time out today to reflect on love in your life - because I promise you - more people love you than you are aware of! 

Happy reading! x 

Roses


Red roses, fresh roses, and thorny ones, too;

I kept every rose because they remind me of you,

Crisp petals, black petals, and dry ones too, 

As withered as our present, no chance to bloom anew. 


From gazing at the roses that once gleamed blood-red,

I now look at their wispy remnants that are certainly dead,

They say ‘time heals all’ but I’m not sure that’s true,

For the roses live less every day, no chance to bloom anew.


The roses are now fragments held together by a string of a stem,

Akin to our shards of moments that only resurface when I call on them, 

Until I close my eyes and deceive myself into believing the view, 

I am a withered rose, with no chance to bloom anew. 


I am a withered rose and I only wither more every day, 

Blood-red on the outside, but my insides are rotting away,

With every passing second, a part of me falls through, 

Our memories live but I am dying, with no chance to bloom anew. 


But I’ve kept another special rose, it’s plastic but far from fake, 

It has stayed scarlet through the days and nights that I’m awake, 

It has withstood the cold dreariness that I feel without you, 

It never stopped blooming, it’s always been as good as new.  


The other roses are in our present state, withered and dried out,

This special rose is like my love for you - alive and kicking about, 

So I keep this special rose, in the hope that when it’s due, 

We can gleam together, red and fresh, with a chance to bloom anew. 


xoxo
aishu
14-02-2024 

Comments

  1. Anonymous:)February 15, 2025 at 2:57 AM

    ok this was SAD bro, but beautiful. it's been a year, hope ur doing well now.

    ReplyDelete

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