Poems
By rose - bronze member
Submitted on May 30, 2025
i. Japanese boy
That one boy who walks just like a shadow
The wind blows through his empty soul
His footsteps clack against the street
As if he can see me looking back
As if I pretend that I like his eyes
As if I don’t stare at his scars
I can’t pretend because
I think I love him
He can’t see me
Looking back
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ii. Spanish lady
Spanish lady, prim and prissy
On her arm is Spanish baby
Big dark eyes, her hair done like a rose
Whittled and thinning towards the toes.
Baby is dressed like a sailor. When he misbehaves,
Mama threatens to send him back to Venezuela.
Comments for this chapter
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This one is so cute and well written, and the descriptions are vivid... i love how there is not a single direct use of a shade of color except maybe 'dark' and 'rose', which isn't even used to describe this character's clothes, but i could somehow imagine this pretty lady in a crimson and cerulean dress. I love this TvT
Comment by AsphodelBlue on June 01, 2025Liked by 1 -
thank you :)))
Comment by rose on June 03, 2025Liked by 0
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iii. Somebody I used to know
The summer of 16
The summer you were stolen
I used to compare you to a rose
But flowers wither slowly and you
It was so fast
It only took
One short second
The summer of tears
The summer you were stolen
We used to laugh, gave each other fake names
And pretended that everything was okay
And you never even told me
All I ask for is
One last moment
Before it ended
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iv. Little Asian kids I wish I knew
When your mother calls you back
She says the words in English
That’s when we’re playing catch
When she picks you up from school
She says the words in Mandarin
That’s when we’re not playing
We can’t play anymore because
When she doesn’t call you back
You want to leave anyway
Knowing that her silence
Is greater than her words
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v. Lost things
You remember
The way I used to say your name
Soft like a secret
A whisper in the falling rain
You remember
The first time you kissed me
Alone in the twilight
White petals falling from the trees
You remember
The warm pressure of my hand
Endless golden pyres
When we built castles in the sand
You remember
And then you don’t
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