Tag Archives: Love

Pen Name Change

Good afternoon, readers! I wanted to take a moment to inform you I’m changing my pen name. (Again, I know) However, it’s not just a spelling change this time. I’m officially changing my pen name from Rose Fay to Rose Taylor. Here’s why:

Of course, Rose comes from my great aunt who shared my birthday and shared my love for writing, as well as art. Some of you may remember she was taken from my family last October. It took me some time to recover from it, but I know she’s happily tending to God’s gardens while writing and drawing her experiences.

Newly, Taylor is the name of my husband’s little brother who died when he was three months old from SIDS. Even though Taylor passed away two months before I was even born, it’s been on my heart to honor him in some way. Especially since I know how much he meant to his family in the short amount of time his presence graced the earth.

Fay–or how I spelled it before, Fae–has always been nothing more than a fun reference to fairies, fantasy, fiction, and the like. It never held much meaning other than that. In all honesty, the past year or so, I’ve been contemplating a new last name. It’s not that Fay isn’t “professional,” I wanted something more significant. I’m not sure why, but it finally hit me this past Wednesday. I’ve only now how time to get around to the changing everything.

After a heart-felt discussion with my husband, he obviously approved and thought it wonderful I wanted to commemorate his family in such a way. I’ve long accepted his family as another extension of my own. Thankfully, I can say they’re not the “weird in-laws.” They go out of their way to make me feel loved, and they’ve accepted me as another granddaughter, cousin, niece, sister, etc. And I’ve accepted them as more grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles, siblings, etc. My husband’s family have been more than fantastic to me, and it’s been a desire of mine to honor their loss in the way I have honored mine.

I promise this is the final time I’m changing my pen name. This will be the official one. Hopefully, you guys will be able to see it on book spines soon!

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Drip, Drip, Drip

Drip
Drip
Drip
Water falling from up above
Keeping the time with seconds
Drip
Drip
Drip
A sound I typically love
Except this time I’m hesitant

The rain is constantly reminding me
Of the previous days when I was free
When I could stand with arms wide
Taking everything in patient stride
Of when I tilted my face high
Feeling drops with a contented sigh
Allowing the cold, purifying rain
To wash my cares far away
As it fills me with blissful peace
Those previous days when I was free

All I hear now is
Drip
Drip
Drip
Water falling from up above
Keeping time with dreadful seconds
Drip
Drip
Drip
A sound I’ve come to loathe
Torturing me with ill constants


Song of the Dead

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I love singing my boyfriend to sleep every night; he’s been so lonely since my funeral. He tosses and turns, mumbling incoherently. I try letting him sleep on his own, but my heart cannot stand seeing him so distraught. So I sing our favorite song. It soothes him into slumber. Then I can watch him in peace.

Unfortunately, I do not think he sees me. I wonder if he senses me. I’m not even sure he hears me, but I know he’s comforted. He cried the most at my funeral, save for my parents. I visited them. Though they did not respond to me as he does. I seemed to only cause them fear and aggravation. So I moved on to my second love.

For days, I wandered his home. Looking at pictures. Reminiscing. We had built ourselves the foundations of a good life. I knew I had picked a good man when I stumbled upon the ring in his room.

He still keeps it by his bedside. Often cries as he gazes upon it. He blames himself for my death, and there’s nothing I can do to change it. I can only sing him to sleep every night. My death is my my fault. My foolishness rendered me lifeless. It had been my finger that found the trigger. They debate if it was accidental or intentional.

Regardless, I serve my penance. My immortal heart shatters every day as I watch him. He trudges through each rotation of the earth as if it were a curse. And he is mine. Thus, I sing to him. After he sheds the grueling duties of the day and crawls into bed. I caress his hair, though he does not know it. I watch him struggle to get comfortable. Listen to his barely audible cries. And then I sing our favorite song as he drifts into a horrible dreamland. Night after endless, isolating night.


The Profile of Love

Are you smitten
Completely fittin’
The profile of love
Cheeks are blushed
With blood rushed
The profile of love
Mind is racing
Body shaking
The profile of love
With knuckles white
And stomach tight
The profile of love
Grasping the knife
Desiring life
The profile of love
Stabbing until dead
Licking the blood
The profile of love
Sucking in breath
Tasting death
The profile of love
Hiding the carcass
Acting suspicious
The profile of a murderer


Unconditional Love

I love you while you’re
Sitting in the back aisle
Feigning perfect smiles

I love you while you’re
Meeting your stranded wit’s end
Working hard to pretend

I love you while you’re
Rejecting everyone’s help
Providing their hearts melt

I love you while you’re
Sitting in the lonely dark
Breaking your fragile heart

I love you while you’re
Lying in a broken bed
Chasing screams in your head

I love you while you’re
Driving down neglected roads
Fighting suicide mode

I love you while you’re
Taking your imperfect life
Destroying all the strife

I love you while you’re
Even in your dying breath
Leaving me with nothing left


Sword (Flash Fiction)

The young maiden gasped, amber eyes wide. Her lips trembled as she looked down at the sword sticking through her chest. Then she lifted her gaze to her attacker. It was none other than her lifelong friend. They had grown together, cried together, laughed together. Fell in love together. The person she trusted most. While it was true that Anne was considered nothing more than a handmaiden to the rest of the castle, Princess Marie called her sister.

The heir to the throne blinked as she felt her blood running down the front of her gown. “Why?”

Anne gritted her teeth, holding the sword in place. “You know why!”

Tears ran down Marie’s cheeks. “I-I don’t.” She gasped for air at this point.

Despite herself, tears welled up in the handmaiden’s eyes. Seeing her friend in such a pained state. But she persisted. “Yes, you do. You sent John to his death. We were going to be married.”

The princess’s eyes fluttered, and she struggled to remain balanced. “I always supported you and John. I don’t, I don’t have that kind of…authority.”

Anne’s expression twitched. It was true that the princess did not have the ability to carry out executions. “But…but–” She cut herself off, looking down at the cold stone floor. “They talked. They all said you wanted him dead. That you begged your father…”

Marie swallowed, though trickles of blood came out the corners of her mouth. “No, Anne.” She choked. “You, you have been blinded.” A short breath. “Fooled.”

The handmaiden’s mouth opened and closed. Yet, no words came. Her dark eyes searched her sister. “Marie…”

The royal heir struggled. “I thought…I thought you trusted me. I trusted you.” A final breath escaped her, and the last thing she saw was her lifelong friend weeping. Her eyes finally fluttered close. She didn’t know what had caused this confusion in Anne, but she knew one thing before her death. It was not the sword that cut her heart.

 


Lines from a Bleeding Heart

Never picturing solitude
Not with promises
People swore
Now those closest
Are furthest away
Those depended on
Are no longer there
Those who listened
No longer hear
I never understand
Why false promises are made
Does no one truly care
Is that why they’re gone
Are those really masks they wear
A heart is given
Yet never returned
They still flock to me
Pouring out their souls
Help them set problems free
Living can be hard
Everyone knows
Yet when it comes to individual strife
The empathetic are tossed away
Pitched like the trash of life
Is it asking too much
For someone to be supportive
But it returns to care
And honesty behind it
Would anyone dare
To reach out to one in need
Who gave so much love
When others called for it
So it could be done for them
Though they never admit
How they failed
Their human support
Now the empathetic is gone
They have indefinitely lost
The other ultimately won


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