Should Have. Could Have

Artwork: @sandra.cumplido (Instagram)

I should have talked to you. Your soft smiles were an indication enough, I should have stopped you, but you were always so immersed in your ways. Shy glances and sweet sighs. So many confessions twirled on your tongue, like sweet hard candy, melting before I could ever hear their crunch. Every once in while you would smile, let the secrets reflect in your eyes. And, I would forget. Forget your pensive stares. To remember what was in front of me. A mirage, that was all you. You and a semblance of me. A shadow that bore our names. Us. Together. In a different lifetime. In an alternate reality. But this, I cannot forget; we are here, in the now, in this place. In this actuality, you don’t talk and I don’t hear. We don’t speak and you are not near. I live with regret, for the things I didn’t do, the words I didn’t let escape in submission to my fears. Perhaps, it is too late. Time is too far gone to say, I should have stopped you. I should have talked to you.

© Romancing Life, 2018

It Hurts

I have been afraid to write of love lately. It takes away too much out of me.

Love is the essence of living. And there are days, which these days are most days when I feel it hurts too much to speak of love with careless abandon. I did so once. Perhaps even dared to do it twice. Once all was said done, I was left with a mere shell of my words. 

If I dab my pen too much into love’s ink, it hurts. It hurts when I speak of what I had. It hurts when I speak of what I don’t have. It hurts to look at my empty hands and I realize even my wishes have slipped through my fingers. 
© Romancing Life | 2017

Lanterns on the Moon

Oh, it’s been a long and lonely ride. Stumbling through this life, you’ve made a pit stop every time someone has offered to be kind. To love the rotten parts of you, just enough to keep you alive. In your desperation, you let them, knowing all too well, with every encounter your heart was crying. A little more each time. Eventually, the tears turning into oceans, and the waves pulling you towards the Eastern shores, where I reside. For your welcome, even the silver orb shines, illuminating the night sky. And, baby if the brightest beacon is not enough to guide you home, I’ll hang lanterns on the moon.

© Romancing Life (2017)

The Boy I Once Loved

Lady Midnight

Grace (iii)

 

Image Source: Google

Drip, Drip.

The scarlet pool surrounding her

blanched skin grows larger.

As her life force grows thinner,

there is low humming in the

background – a slight buzz.

The likes of

songs of sultry sirens;

hypnotic notes – mermaid made,

lulling her into an almost

catatonic state.

Recalling the mellifluous sound of his voice

crystal-clear – the gravelly dulcet tone,

“Come back,” the words echo

bouncing of the ghostly walls.

“Come back to me darling,” he whispers again,

“Come back home.”

It might be her imagination running wild

or the reality- in truth

she could no longer educe.

The noise is slowly fading,

her breath grows shallow and

her body is now weak.

All the remenanets of his love

form her system have now bled away.

She’s but an empty shell

a structure of misery and bone;

too late, too late now,

she’s far too gone

to come back home

to his familiar embrace.

His voice – no longer

her saving grace.

——The End——

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To read Part 1, please click here & to read Part 2, please click here!

Please let me know what you all thought? I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Love,

Rose

Grace (II)

Artwork by Elisabeth Lisa

Grace (ii/iii) (Read Below)

She remembers his face,

a face all too familiar.

The rhapsodic look in his eyes,

the gentle curve of his smile

the sharp edges of his jaw,

the sleek terrain of his nose

the darkness emanating

from his being,

his magnetic pull

ever so strong.

A face, all too familiar,

one too many times she’s seen.

A face she’s known for ages

since her soul was

birthed into existence,

age after age,

eon after eon;

engraved into her conscious.

She seeks him out

in every lifetime,

sometimes several times

in one,

only to be scorned

but always with a touch of love.

She seeks, she struggles, she strives

she finds, she falls, she loves,

somehow it’s never enough.

.

.

—–To Be Continued—-

To read Part 1 please click here!

The Devil’s Call

 

Image Source: Deviantart

In a sultry-dulcet tone,

he beckons me close.

“Come here, darling,

let me look into your soul.

Don’t be shy now.

I promise it won’t hurt.

C’mon now, love,

don’t be so curt.”

Now if I wasn’t so afraid,

I might have taken

him up on his offer.

I knew not,

what had him so

enthralled.

So I silently quivered,

and shook

where I stood.

He looked at me next

as though my actions

had him perplexed.

A light flickered

somewhere in the room

and the darkness spread;

previously golden orbs,

now glowed in red.

Breathless, I moved back,

stumbling, tumbling

before I hit the ground,

he caught my fall;

he smiled richly,

all while capturing

my heart,

“Sweet, little girl

nobody ignores

the Devil’s call.”

 

 

Cunning Lover, Cunning Heart

 

After a heartbreak 

or ten,

the heart has

become as cunning

as those,

which it loves.

Every time

it breaks,

it shatters

a little harder,

every piece

a little sharper.

So be well warned,

the blood on 

your hands

will not be mine. 

Dancing with the Devil (i)

 

Image Source: Be Sketchy

“You have the face of

a devil,”

her laughter echoed

throughout

the old marble structure

under which they stood.

He frowned.

She giggled some more,

her melodious voice

bouncing of the ancient walls –

walls that had not heard

a mortal sound

since

long lifetimes past.

“…like that of an innocent child,

untouched, pure and milky white.”

Bewildered, and bemused

he looked up

and then down,

after a deep thought

concluding she’d lost

her pretty mind.

She’d heard

the words he didn’t

voice,

her mind a million

miles away,

yet

the part of her present

with his continued to play,

“You’re are a beautiful man,

too beautiful of your own good,

I see the your gentle facade,

truly my love,

you are a work of art.

I am afraid though,

despite your charms

you’ve lost this war.

And,

you’ve lost your chance.

I won’t offer the

devil another dance.”

© 2016 Romancing Life