rowori

[rowori]

how do you let yourself love someone who is always standing in the crosshairs of a gun?

---

@jaxbeetle absolutely smashed this commission out of the park and made me fall in love with this story all over again. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

[rowori]

family tree

the beginning is lost

and the ending is wishful thinking,

but everything can be traced back to you

a tree of trauma you gave me and the vines entangled me before i noticed the asphyxiation

i choked on your expectations so much that they became my own

and you still cling to me like the smell of smoke on skin

you douse me in gasoline over and over and i’ve been waiting years for you to light the match

and maybe you thought you were ready for the wildfire

but you were only prepared to watch from a distance

in fear and awe of the beauty and destruction 

so i’ll water these charred roots

nourishing them in hopes that one day

i’ll blossom into something nurturing and new

and i’ll move on from you

my branches will bloom into something so reminiscent of me

you’ll be shocked by its unfamiliarity,

but you never did know me at all, did you?

you only saw the flowers that sprouted at your feet

instead of the forest i could’ve been

-rw

#my poetry #poets on twitter #original poem #poetry #poets on tumblr #poets corner

[rowori]

almost

the irony in the fact that the truest love 

i’ve known will never be more

than a question mark on a blank page

we’re filled with potential

but it’s wasted

on our uncertain youths

it leaves me wondering

and wondering

and wondering

and wondering and wondering and wondering.

all the unanswered

“what if”s paint perfect lifetimes 

in my mind that leave me

dizzy and deluded. 

but i never expected perfect

i never wanted perfect

i wanted the good, the bad,

the in between and

every little thing

that no one would treasure as much as me;

your stinky breath in the morning

and the kisses i’d still steal without hesitation;

the little things that bother you

and the things i’d do to soothe 

the wrinkles in your brow;

the long nights that wear on both of us

and the bills laying out on the table;

the wrinkles and the years

of baggage and pain we both travelled

to find each other;

the years of pain

and all the years to come.

and imagining the shade of perfect

we could be

is what hurts the most

maybe years from now, i’ll chalk this all up to wishful thinking or childish idealism,

but in this moment, i know

i’ve never known love before you.

this was a love that taught me love,

and no one else will ever know the privilege

of being the first to truly own my heart

but the irony is neither will you

#my poem #my poetry #original poem #poets on twitter #poets on tumblr #poetry

[rowori]

the phoenix from the flame

my hands hold flames, they create, but you don't see. i bend the earth, breathe the sky. i bring dragons to their knees. i am the soil under your feet and the cosmic dust that lingers all around you, but when you look at me, you don't see the mountains or the seas, you see a servant, but also a friend.

i live for my prince, my king, for you. i have the power to shake the heavens and i use it only for you. i know all of your old battle wounds, the scars that sting with memory, and i know how to soothe each one and i know the crown weighs too heavy on your head, but i look at you and see our destiny. i see all i am meant to do and all you will become.

my amber eyes see the world vibrating all around us and all the futures yet to come, but you never see the fire there. you see only blue.

together, we are building legends that will burn in the memory of man for centuries and i know this,

but i don't know how to save you. i do not know how to stop fate, that monstrous tide rushing full force– one that even my hands can’t bend.

you're tethered to tragedy that i can’t prevent, though my whole existence is dedicated to it and it haunts me now and for centuries to come.

but i know you will return. your rest in avalon will end, and like the phoenix, you will rise again.

and we will rebuild camelot from the ashes of all our fallen brethren.

#merthur #merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #poets on twitter #my poetry #poetry #prose #original poem #poets corner

[rowori]

When I was a kid, I thought that the irises of my eyes were colored-pencil shavings and the pupils, crystal balls. I stared at them for hours. And I spent recess making flower crowns and necklaces out of the scattered white clovers. And I imagined that I was a shining, silver star, bursting through the night sky, elegantly and boldly.

I was born a beautiful idealist and I’ve carried that with me throughout my life, searching for art in everything and searching for my meaning in the sky. I daydreamed my way into a new story, one where I could live as a comet, vagabonding my way through the galaxies.

But while I searched for beauty far out into the universe, I also found it here without looking. In the soothing murmurs of the animals and insects that roam in the night; or the way vines wrap themselves around aged buildings, as if they were painting their own art canvas. I found it in the way the rain cooled my skin on a scorching summer day, the stubborn sun still finding a way to illuminate the neighborhood below; in the unyielding and dangerous way fire burns, though fragile and easily quelled; and in the ancient artifacts found in thrift shops and consignment stores: hairbrushes and handkerchiefs, cameras and candelabras, trunks without trinkets and armchairs without occupants, all telling their own story.

I found it in the conversations I had with my grandmother as she shared her stories with a faraway look in her eyes. There’s a simple beauty in everything she does, like the look of awe on her face as she stares up at the clearest, brightest night sky. I don’t think she ever truly believes me when I tell her she’s beautiful. She usually just chuckles, changing the subject. But she is. 

There’s beauty to be found in everyone if one looks close enough, but too often we don’t pay attention to the world around us and by doing so, we miss out on everything.

Life is beauty. One just has to look.

#prose #poetry #my poetry #original poem #poets on tumblr #poets on twitter #my poem #poets corner