Amber Rose
I felt numb, incredibly numb. I wanted to feel something, anything. I was tired, of everything around me. I wanted things to end, but I never get my wishes do I?
My hands somehow found its way to a box of matches. Without a second thought, I opened my drawer and took out my bottle of ashes and a once crystal, now ash covered candle holder. I wanted to feel like I was home. Somewhere, where I felt that I could stay happy, and safe. Where every night I didn't have trouble falling asleep because I had to think, or worry over trivial matters, matters that are suppose to be simple. Well, in my case, nothing is ever quite that simple.
With my white butterfly headphones, and a plastic lollipop stick sticking out of my mouth, I took out an old drawing of my childish dreams I once had, crumpled it, and set it in flames. The smell of burning wood and paper was like a drug. It made everything feel somewhat, better. I watched the paper slowly form into a beautiful amber rose. The glowing red and orange edges that slowly turned into a pure grayish white was intoxicating, and for once, it was simply beautiful. That was the closest to simple I could think of. Beauty in the flames and the glory of the sunset was all like an enchanted spell. I was mesmerized by the colour of the rose blooming in the small candle holder, watching it slowly die off.
I knew that the beautiful rose would crumble with the slightest touch. No matter how soft or gentle the touch may be, the rose would fall apart.
I guess that love is somewhat similar. A passionate beginning, and a delicate but tragic end.
And then I wondered, a small and slight thought,
I wonder if I am like that rose.