She wasn't like the rest; dead and impure and a part of the world. She was different. She was different in the way she danced and wore her imperfections everyday. She was unique in her own world; and the way she talked about her life. For so long, she dwelled in a locked place; full of seclusion and detailed portraits of her deadly scars. She was drowning in this river. The river that shattered her raw soul and obliterated her childhood memories. The river that took her in a heartbeat. With water touching her soul she could remember every buried memory. The other roses wanted a memoir about her history and the different seasons she resided inside for so long. But it was hard. It was hard to open up about the closed books. There were days when she tried to build a smile but alternately it turned into a frown. But I don't blame her senses. We live in this world where everything doesn't seem right and doesn't add up. We live in this world that is extremely hard to put your own feelings in a way a human could understand. When she remembers her past… she remembers the childhood. She will always remember how her soul cheered inside and the butterflies inside her stomach danced. Sometimes, her vain froze while reading about the other roses and how they were breathing in this ideal world when she lived in this undesirable world. She survived on a candle everyday, while looking at this specific society and its overall expectations. She wrote about the laws of nature and how this world defines us as a whole. Her haunted mind was full of delusions and frustrations. Her mind was full of electricity.. if you touch it, it will burn. It will make you unconscious and the disease that she was diagnosed with will eventually hit you hard deep to your soul and you will be paralyzed. She wanted to change the world, so she stayed awake all night, trying to grasp the idea of life. Trying to seize the world in her hand, trying to find a solution as if she was responsible. She had many colors inside her that brought happiness to her dark ego. The colors that others called “flaws” in this what so called“ideal” world. She combined every unique color and translated her art as, “ the agony of survival.” She witnessed people killing others just for sip of water. Just to live. To breath. Sometimes I feel sad for the way she viewed this world, she doesn't see her worth. Her ears are open to the lies people have to say. So sometimes she would get a pen and deep inside her heart she would write every little word the roses tell her. I glanced at her heart before, there was no more room to write. It makes me want to mourn, the way she tried to look for a space to write. I tried to stop her, but she was full of the comments she received all throughout her life. They loathed the way she unveiled her life. They avoided her success when she won the games they often competed about. I hope one day the world doesn't continue to treat you wrong.
Fallen rose? Where were you when everyone was moving you around, making you feel unsafe and undeclared? Where were you when others labeled you “not good enough” in this cold rain? Where were you when regrets followed you through the stairs forcing you to reveal this burden inside your doors? Where were you when you were trying to escape this pain but it followed you to get to know your name? Where were you when you lost your real name and you looked around for your-almost “labeled name”? Do you still have these nightmares when mother nature called you empty because of your name? Why didn't you stand up for yourself when all the pieces inside couldn’t take it anymore? Fallen rose? Can you hear the screams? The screams of this corrupt world and its lack of support..? Do you hear those whispers …? What about your heart? Did it became too old for you to express your emotions? Did you change your identity so you could have a check next to your name ? Did you really need that approval? Where did your golden heart go? Where’d that courageous girl go? The girl who never let her past interfere with her future. The girl who never gave up on anyone, especially her own flaws? Where did you go? Why did you let this world change you? “I had high expectations for you!” Why didn't you hold tightly to the ground and kept your head up high? I hope you will rise, and people will recognize you for your talents, not the whispers and your flaws. Over 8 billion roses in the world, you will remain special in my own world. ow look at me. Don't let this “wind” take you away from me. Keep holding tightly. Keep your blood flowing. -- I picture you holding this world in your hand, just keep holding to the ground as you can. Save yourself. My darling, no one can save you but yourself. Keep your doors open. Especially the windows. And let go of this idea so-called “life.”
“When everything around you seems out of control and it seems like you can't handle life and its games. Enter your own library and read one of your books. You will smile. Because you will see how powerful you are, and how you conquered all of your past. Believe in yourself, because I believe in you.”