Thoughts

[winterblood 11181]

 

 

The gentle hand that loved planted the seed which had grown into this dark flower.

It was oblivious, mistaken, seeing or hoping for the seed to make something beautiful.

It was a blind, idiotic fool.

 

It started forever ago… When I was blinded with love, it began.  Would this all not have happened if I said no?  I’ve made a mistake and I refuse to step out of it for how gorgeous it is; I’m still in love.

Is it a mistake, though?  Without him, I’d have succumbed to the Fear.  Without him, I’d have been lost.

 

Nurtured by grief and hatred, the seed sprouted.

And with time, it grew.

Saturated in reformed fear, obscured by the horrific,

The seed grew unnoticed.

 

I could have stopped it.  I could have put it all to an end, but I was weak.  

Was I allured by his words?  His harmless words of his concern and doubt which I took to heart.  Will my love always bring forth this pain?  Perhaps I deserve to be lost.

 

Guided with the faint uncertainty,

The plant rose.

There, it basked in a dark light coming from a dreary sun.

A bud formed.

 

Sorrow, misery, and despair They’ve latched onto me when I was in love both times, clinging onto my back and legs and just waiting.  They wait to sink their teeth into my flesh and to drag my soul and heart down when a drop of doubt, worry, or guilt is set into my mind.  Why am I like this?  Why do they forever linger?

 

It blossomed.

The petals were of grief, frustration, contempt, and woe.

Its scent was of regret, hatred, and sadness.

With such heavy and burdensome feelings, the petals drooped low.

 

I’ve felt lost for the past several months.  The more I aimlessly wander, the more numb I become.  I’ve grown cold again, I’ve noticed.  His beautiful smile gives me no warmth, his sweet words bring me scarcely any comfort.  My swirling thoughts are forming a wall, a shell.  It must be broken, but how?  I refuse to return to it.

 

It was a flower of her fears and woes.

How long until it will finally wither away?

I must continue searching.

[trinn 5146]

Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

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