The roses counted down the moonlight it only passed my chances by and gave me the courage to never give the dream that had my heart the whole the time it came to being just a once upon a time but it never was just a closer lifetime I wanted to live, but my life was thrown around like rose petals. I started to count down the minutes maybe I was ready to capture the petals in the wind before I left all of my dreams in the hands of the voices that could never speak but words carried me like I was almost an option to grieve and as the words began to play around in my head I only struggled to see the open glass of the rose petals that were supposed to remain a closed entry of love letters. But I know that one day love with you will find me and even though my school of life is still unhold I feel like everything is just a quick step of a journey ready to be faced and as long as I am sitting alone in this empty room with my thoughts that are guiding the words that write the next page, the chapters of us never came as easy as one, two, three, but words just started to flow right out of me, without even giving a second thought to when my dreams never stopped because I continued to think of you when you were gone from the life you were supposed to live with me.
The words like a diary￼
I wish I could write a full page of words that were supposed to describe in detail of how much I loved you, but only seeing the different shades of blue, that keep me in secret, but never thought to reveal the infamous treasure. But the journey was the process of words I thought I had taken for granted once upon a time. The only secrets of me came in with the night, that fell in with the deep but that seemed to write the ticket of the golden latchets that locked the journals of my life and words with poetry, but once it all came to be unlocked then all of my dreams started making the glass out of waterless raindrops, as if we were losing precious daylight.
The stories that found me
You found the voices in the stories you were no longer looking through but nothing ever seemed to fit until you got the notification that someday your book was being published but thaty all seemed to fade because you couldn’t find a loophole to reach the dream, but the goal seemed to be pretty easy to achieve, if it didn’t have another life in place to live.
You found the hardest parts in the dreams that you never thought would lie, but it all felt like a ghost of rose petals walking by you on the streets asking for the number of the person they were trying to reach, but making a guard seem like a gate was worser than climbing over the pillar of the untrusting messages, but as for everyday I continued to look back at highschool and see all of the stories of the chapters I could have missed but posting the picks or running with the lines kept me in the circle of the love that never died.
Now it all seems like it is gone and never left until it was the like I never had the love story to begin with, but the art of emotion used to be something I had wanted to express, but instead I just chose a life outside of the cursor on my laptop.
I write everyday the same stories from the same person, but no one ever saw me as a clear vision, I may have left my comment section open for others to see and hopefully read in between the lines of the stories that meant a lot to me, to someone who wanted to keep their life a secret from the source had to reveal who she truly was.
But the stories may have called her a fighting butterfly of wings through the stars, but she only came into the world asking for a chance to show the world that she was more than just the other side of the story.
This was one was not a story, more like another chapter of her life within a week, but she still carried on, and even if it felt like she could dip her rose petals into her sorrows of her heart that once was solid but now turned to glass, and she only made a deal with her and her past and she vowed to keep her life going as long as she could before the story caught her by the ending.
She transposed a lot of the lyrics that she listened to into lyrics and he did the same with his art, where he gravitated his feelings what they were to now finding out that everything including life had a clue on how to find your story.
You may have never found your other half of your dreams yet, but you will it will just take a few wrong turns to see what happens when life throws us the meaning of another truth and the lessons we had to endure in order to get there.
I still have not figured out where my journey of life will lead to next but I am still working on that part of the story until I won’t give up the words that are necessary for the girl who wrote the heart of her story even if she couldn’t find the words at first but joined the life to see where her writing would take the ending.