The Choired Rose

Fri, 03/04/2016 - 17:18 -- 449477

For the rush of intense music & a new beginning can make us all a little delirious, seeing all the excitement of people's faces rushing past, beginnings reaching their ends, & here we all are, barely starting to see but a speck of the whole portrait that awaits us. Following the path that we believed to be the rest of our lives. "Wait, you're gay?" "What? No!" & just like that, we begin our story. The day the music died, but was born once again, like a phoenix, & it was so epic, but because of this, we were not able to see the tragedy that would take place henceforth. And all for one minor mistake, the glitch that cost us all so much. Like A Midsummer Night's Dream, only meant to last so much longer, perhaps might never even end. Temptation became the ultimate treason. But is that not how inner harmony is achieved, after we find our weakness & downfall? Words spoken, warnings given, limits broken, bliss driven. Surprising instant in which temptation becomes fate enclosed in that of an unsuspected, but much suggested movement. Only a fool couldn't see through us to know what we do. Satine will not die this time, I promise. Gender roles switched, unbelievably. Why must it be so complicated, only it's really not. It's the most simple situation any of these people have encountered in ages. But maybe the timing, maybe fate got it wrong? No, it was absolutely perfect. Like the oddest puzzle life created, as a joke. A cruel joke with no punch line, except that you just can't win, no matter how hard you try. No but you can find pure bliss even when making mistakes. This new path intertwined with a faux fate. One took the stupidest fall, but left a burn to remind of unnecessary error. The other carries on, but in no way feels like error. Only the Almighty can have the final word. In the meantime, the promise of tomorrow hangs in the air. And I remember an orange blight of light, an instant where you dream all of the incidents to follow, the chaos, the destruction & the solution to all, but then again, it's all just a dream, right? "I saw you singing to her. Looking right at her. We all saw." "Yeah, I know." With a mischievous intensity in the eyes, but not something I haven't done myself, causing a double-take & a sort of estranged, long-awaited familiarity. Voices rejoice, rise, enwrap in each other, blinding all warnings out of our sights, & leaving only sincere emotion instead. Then, before we know it, in times of the joyful screams, clasping hands as if the world would try to tear them apart with all its Atlas might. Chin connects with neck. Arms connect with shoulders. The point of which there is no return. Jealousy trying to push its way in, with no avail. The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Christmas Secret Santa. Decorating a faux tree & glossy black piano & stage for the time of twinkling lights & bells. Like the much-needed family, & although partly faux, totally worth it, at whatever scar-let cost. Fight it, take the pain, ignite it. The lights of Broadway take over, with songs full of fearfull denial, brave defeat & defying gravity, & so forth. A dress fit for only one Nightmare, fought amongst several, envied by a specific few out to get, but set for a moment of sweet adoration. Jealous of the Beast? Not even close. All led to our beautiful Soli Deo Gloria, turning more than just one head, shedding more than one tear, supported. One stage, one love, two fates, too rough. No more, no more! Time to stand up & be the fearless no one wants to be. I'm here, & I'm ALIVE. After all that we've been through, it should be clear how much I ;love you. We'll make it through TOGETHER, or else all we got is none. Can I lay by you're side, next to you, 'cause I've got a little bit longer, I've got ways to go. Without those doses and mimosas, I just want to feel purple, yellow, red, & blue. Before we know it, we are led through the grandest of decades. Somehow, Someday, Somewhere, come together, Stay. Run through that stage like it's your last days. Together, holding hands, because you two are the only ones legit enough for this to give example. As his first lyrics are forgotten, well she was just seventeen, & you know what I mean, & the way she looked was way beyond compare. Only, eight days a week, I love you, my Jude. "I don't think I could sleep with you." Wow. "You bring me down to earth." The words that bring eternal happiness. One dance together, barely rehearsed. Holding hands, like the two happiest fools. Laying in an old couch, two sleepy kituins, only not so tired. The feeling of legitimate bliss with the love of your life. Only life is not one moment; it carries on, for better or for worse. But only we have reign of our eternal throne, where things can only get better. 'Til then, I'll be holding on to you. Love, your Choired Rose.

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