Withered

About Him and the rose in my kitchen...

It was a fresh blush-

When you gave it to me;

on the 9th of February.

I remember it vividly. 

You couldn't be with me on the 14th.

St. Valentine's Day. 

So you contemplated to sweep me off my feet on the 9th. 

And you gave me a single rose...

It smelled so sweet...

Just like you... 

And you asked for a hug;

which was so warm...

Your strong arms around me, tight...

A lovely warmth emanated from your tan skin...

This hypnotizing scent that was a drug to me;

and the sweet words you whispered into my ear...

I can almost hear it now...

'I will always be with you...'

And my heart burst...

Overfilled with joy...

I thank you for that beautiful night... 

I will always remember that first night..

Your first gift to me-

The first few words that I hold to my heart forever... 

I put your rose in a blue crystal vase;

and it soon dried-

Withered...

Despite its black mask, it still looked as beautiful;

when you gave it to me...

Now...

it's darker and more withered...

Like the love you used to shower upon me... 

Your love withered...

But mine did not... 

And it never will..

I wish that rose will bloom again-

As if it were magic...

And your love reignited. 

The sweet memories we had;

the happy moments we'd shared... 

The good, the bad, the best... 

That was what we had... 

The moment when you thought;

a 3 second kiss was too short.

And yearned for more..

When you cried for me... 

Where did those moments go?

Where did the love go? 

I still love you...

Do you?

Or has everything we had;

Withered?

Dedicated to: Chia Wei Shen <3

Author's Note

Toned down on my metaphor-stuffed poetry. Inspired after I saw that withered rose in my kitchen...
Miss the lovely times.

Reviews

[S Sanders]

I like this metaphor. I tend to be inspired by odd things around me to; I once created a poem about infidelity after seeing a red stiletto. The rose fits this well. It begins red, sweet, holding promises of love. Then it turns dark (but still reminds you of the promises that came with it) But when it withers completely, it reminds me of...death, and I'm ready to throw mine out. Nice read.

[B.A.R.]

It's so sad... You make me feel the emotions very well. Good job!!! Thank you for writing!

[SpokenWord]

Your poetry is speaking in tones of missing someone dearly, looking to the past and wondering why. There is no comfort or words to give comfort to a heart that is broken and still bleeding from the wound. Your work is wonderful because it allows you to purge and hopefully heal in time so that you can love once again and partake in the fruits of love.