The melancholy of this life is that we do not live
long enough to bloom, or perhaps that we live far too
long and our petals become wilted. Both prospects
are equally blue in my eyes when I yearn for a life
in red, though you might have disagreed about the different
shades, for you couldn’t see your petals bloom at all-
no shades of red were red enough and no shades
of blue could match the ocean. I can see you swimming
now, teasing me with cool water and ease of float when
you know how heavy I am, weighed down enough
for both of us and maybe everyone I have ever known too.
I cannot lighten myself to bloom most days because your
teasing splashes across my face and I am full to the brim with
a sadness rivaled by none, surely no person has ever felt
so lifeless, despite the working organs and blinking eyes.
Let me sleep so you and I can swim and laugh into eternity,
light as feathers and beautifully red in the cheeks,
all blues gone from our bodies and returned to the sea.
Return me, now, to the sea and fuel me with happiness
and joy for the sunlight, joy that I have banished from my life
indefinitely- rescue my spirit, captive to grief and guilt,
those two devils I drag behind me in hopes we can become
friendly. I suppose you did not think they would come to bed
with me every night, that they would not dress me each
morning, you could not know I would be locked in heavy
battle with them day in and day out, always losing pitifully.
You could not know any of this and I have no real business
telling you this when, in fact, you are unable to hear it, or anything
really- you do not hear, you cannot see, you will not know
how I die every morning and every night from uncontrollable
heartache and sorrow, intertwined so heavenly that one would
wonder if actually it is not part of a master design. You have
decided never to bloom, which, regretfully, has stunted
my growth and wilted my own petals- how stunningly unfair
that our flowers could not grow together and bloom into
the most beautiful rose garden, heart-stopping and blood red, alive.
