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_غـزل

For someone

ماه شب ۵ مهر ۱۴۰۵

نوشته هایم بوی خون می‌دهند انگار بین هر کلمه استخوانی خُرد شده و جنازه‌ای جامانده است.

علی_ماسپی‌مهر

In darkness, a ruby rose blooms. A spider dances around my heart I still wait like the moon behind a cloud, like a love that never learned my name And you, you in a mirror, cracked by everything we never said. You smile please, smile back at me in a poem only silence can read. Oh, how beautiful the dark is when roses bloom from blood. The spider dances on moonlit silver threads, and I sing, sing that song I only whisper for someone who never was, in a garden that never was. And still I wait in this garden where your smile used to live. And the roses... the roses remember what I keep trying to forget. The dark breathes against my neck like it wants to tell me something, as if it wants to hold me closer. I bleed into the snow, watch the earth colored red roses drink, and they grow more sinful every time I fall apart, When I fall for your eyes. Whenever I whisper your name, I never asked why, why you? I only asked for you, darling... Why? The spider draws a thread, and the line grows longer I follow it to wherever you are, or wherever you were. The night is a lover who never leaves. The spider is a friend who never speaks. and I am a rose. A ruby rose that blooms in the wrong garden, at the wrong time for the right person, for a heart that beats for another love a heart that never sees mine. Roses... Velvet... Darkness... Dreams That tie my whole life to a thread. -نور (or maybe Moonbow)

خاکستری، حد فاصلِ سیاهی و سپیدی نیست؛ رنگِ حقیقتی‌ست که آن‌قدر از هر دو گذشته، که دیگر نیازی به تبرئه‌ی خویش ندارد.

𝄞 . واڪاو

پس اگر دیدی خاموشم؛ گمان مبر که چیزی برای گفتن نمانده؛ من فقط از آن کلماتی می‌ترسم که اگر یک‌بار بر زبانم جاری شوند، دیگر هیچ دیواری میانِ «دوستت دارم» و «برای همیشه از دستت داده‌ام» باقی نخواهد ماند..