Ruby
Ruby,
she smells like honeysuckle
But when she feels like herself, she's made of lilies.
The vines of love tug at her heart; thorns scarring her lungs softly.
There's another drip of blood.
Ruby.
Blood.
But Ruby,
She cradles it and rubs it on her lips
Then she speaks the kind of love only she knows -
I love you but I abhor you in some ways
You may love me different
But I love you and I have loved you
How can I leave when I have chosen to love you all these days.
There's another cut.
Cuts.
Blood.
Ruby.
Cuts with dried blood
Oh but Ruby,
She treads on that lonely walk of life like she might find something at the end.
Her lover does that kind of loving that leaves her bitter and bare -
The kind of bitterness that leaves her mouth dry
Like when she'd eat a spoonful of coffee to keep herself alive.
I ache for you and I come to you
But you make me ache another kind of ache
How do I figure out this ache while having to love you still?
Ruby sits alone,
Tired, rejected, stubbornly lonely in her room.
Her bones, weak
But still carrying her where she should be.
Blood pooling under the skin,
An unfamiliar rage and resentment trapped, scratching at the surface.
There's that bruise.
Bruises now pierced
Cuts purging out blood -
Blood so rare and pure,
They looked like Ruby.
Oh, my Ruby,
She sits in front of me with her bangs sitting at her brows,
Her hair short - always short,
The ends are messy from the scissor cuts she makes at midnight.
She holds herself like she might be doing better.
Ivory skin, freckles on top and eyes no longer so tired.
When we were 16 we forgot we were 15,
And then on and on again until we forgot what it meant to be young entirely.
Hi, I used to love you and I still do.
And a part of me believes that it will continue
And then again and again will i love and believe in you.
I have you in my pocket and I keep you safe.
When I need to keep myself breathing and awake,
I pull you out and I ask you to tell me something good.
You talk about how our uniforms used to touch our knees,
How we sat at the bleachers just around 8:30
We talk about the guy with brown hair, who seemed to have affection -
Childish little silly affections -
For 16-year-old me.
I put you back in hoping I don't suffocate you.
Then when the world looms over me and people walk through me,
When life starts to feel like a fever dream,
I feel around my pocket again and I remember
That though this may be how things will be for a while,
I have not lost you yet
And you haven't lost me.
So that's how it's been,
Patched up, Ruby.
Tired but healed,
My now scratched Ruby.
But all the same, yes all the same,
If not even better than before.
Here is Ruby and the glory of her youth is yet to bless her.
When we sat in that cafe for over 2 hours,
I finished my coffee in 10 seconds.
When I walked that dreadful 30-minute walk back home,
I reached within 10 minutes.
When I set foot outside, the world was blue as ever,
Cold and blue;
The warmth of our conversation slowly left me.
When I reached my apartment I was 20 again,
My eyes darkened with fatigue;
Head heavy with responsibilities
Heart hurt but beating.
Hurt but Beating.
Beating to that silent death song,
Yet pumping out life.
Pumping out red -
Blood-red Ruby.
~ ៷
Comments
Post a Comment