Rosedreams.net

January 2017 –
The month that was

February 12th, 2017

January the 1st: We bid farewell to 2016, relieved, but without fireworks. We had champagne and the New Year’s cake. Grandma won the not so gold coin. There was still snow outside. I wrote a poem. Discarded it later. There was silence, then excitement.
I went out that night and didn’t return.
 
The rest of the month was a bit quiet.
The weather was indescribable. Cold and warm, and cold and colder and even colder and then not so cold and then warm and then sunny and then snowy again and then cold and then I’m not sure anymore.
I was uninspired. Went to work, pole dancing, climbing, out with friends (shopping, dinner, cinema, drinks). Didn’t read any books, but watched a few TV series… & Re, re, re, re – watched Doctor Who. (Yes, of course, I’m a geek Whovian!)
Had to make choices. Crossing things out of lists. And making new ones. New lists, as well as new friends…
 
It’s February now, still cold, still so many choices to make… but at least I won’t be alone in making them…
 

A love in winter

February 9th, 2017

“You’re all I wanted, all I love”- Dark Angel, Bloodflowerz

• Whispers in the rain, like underwater kissing, a cherished dream, your lips on mine, don’t tell me how it ends, don’t tell me it ends.
• I’m dreaming again. Eyes open wide. No people. Just possibilities…
• I’m not just made of rose petals and porcelain; I bent, but never break against the hard edges of this world.
• Maybe some things are immune to decay.
• I’m always, always, thinking of you…
• I buried my love for you under layers and layers of phoenix ash.
• Look beyond the mirror’s distortions. We are beautiful.
• Collected stardust-wishes being scattered along a forgetful sky.
• The nightingale sings her poem to a lovelorn moon.
• Sometimes midnight persists, and clouds like ashes gather, but dawn’s only a breath (a kiss, a kiss from you) away.
• The only thing that scares me is your silence.
• We are not Atlases, let go, and just keep holding me.
• Behind veils of starlit melancholia there is so much (hope) (for us).
• …don’t tell me it ends.