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dig up my chamber and you will discover no trace of roses.
my hands were fidgeting in exhilaration of writing for hearts since i have a handful of inspiration and given that it can be found everywhere—the sore sight of couples parading their intertwined hands, a passionate student admiring the lessons of his program or it can be his crush in the other block, instructors who love their job and two birds hanging out up on the wire.
oh cupid! i wanted it to be like the first chapter of every romance book where every way the characters take leads to their lover; the sensation of their body tipped by some serotonin, dopamine and norepinephrine; heat flaring through their cheeks and stomach bottoming up in a cold touch of their pinky finger; their hearts seem to trip over its next beat as they fall in such trick of love. assuming that i had it all well-preserved in my haul of valentine cards, but i was becoming Orpheus and my drafts were Eurydice, i gazed how the dust and ashes withered its flowery to death.
whenever i face you, it is whether i am ruined for i have ruined you or you are ruined—ruining me.
yes, i do know love; i know how to love; i know what it feels like to be in love and to be loved but i do not know if the love i have known is the love that is should, the love they seek and the love they want. because all the time i learned of it more, i just wish i never did.
this roman god talked to professors eloquently, he danced as if he is a little chicken in its first day out of the shell and walked as though he is a knight. these are all i could share of the recent name on my receipt but i still care of those what ifs who came. had i accepted my Charming's hand, i would not have to hate parties. was i to tolerate my queen of ice' flirts and fatuous acts, maybe this month would be warm enough to melt this sickness. should Jupiter reached out, my apologies and appreciation would be recognized. Apollo, if we got into the same temple, would things for us work? would you name me to a flower and lay my head to your limbs under willow trees? 'though i regret it or not, 'though you are still listed in here or not in a chance again or the one, i am charmed with, the feeling that glitters my hearts gold, waters my brain and moves my hands so gracefully is celestial bodies in the sky of starry cities.
Venus witnessed how i roam the world to pick up different roses, be thrown by these when i rest and heart's yielding of it when i smile.
i installed and uninstalled dating apps in cycle. i had been through a war if i am capable of it or i am destined to memorize academic terms since the people who would probably love me now, would love me for what i could do for them and not for what i like or i don't like. sometimes, i look in the mirror and say something off about my features the same way my loved ones bring it up. but i am pretty as the artists of the song i sing; i am perfectly fine when i sketch haywire lines; i am who i am here and that makes me write and write. love is everywhere indeed. i found mine whilst doing what myself would do.
