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Daria Ștefania Apostoiu, 18 years old, is participating in the 6th International Literary Creation Competition, from Filipeștii de Pădure, Prahova County, Romania. We are grateful for the participation and wish her success.
-About errands and fruits-
To love is a curse to many
To feel is a pain to some
But when asked about soulmates,
I said, “nostalgia must have won.”
Because to hope that someone else exists
And to ache for their love—
It’s not for the weak, especially for the ones that burn.
It doesn’t come when you’re ready or properly prepared.
It surely doesn’t care that you tell everyone you’re better off without them…
Deep down, you wait…
For that Tuesday morning to not feel the same,
To dress nice just because you feel like it,
To just change your normal route,
And on that different street to be love at first sight,
To know that person’s eyes from another life, to know that suit,
To say “hi,” but really it was an “I finally found you.”
You get coffee together and talk about errands and fruits,
You say his hair is nice, and he compliments your boots.
You’re late to work, so you have to leave—but first, you ask to meet again,
Hoping that he agrees.
But he doesn’t. He shows you the ring and says it was nice to meet,
But he can’t have you, saying that “it isn’t right!”
His eyes burning to say “I just need to hold you tight!”
So you leave, just like that. The pain is unstoppable, but you feel… nice?
You know now that in another life you’re together, but you still paid the price.
You’re happy for that you, but tormented for this one.
You’ll live your life single—but having so much fun.
-Venus-
Because life begins with us.
The stars stopped making a fuss,
The universe no longer interfered,
And Venus had no more reason to fear.
The goddess accepted we were meant to be,
And so the heavenly bodies were finally free.
She left a mark on our souls and softly said,
“Now the world in your hands will be healed.”
A bonding so powerful and deep
Will conquer the entire galaxy—and keep
Everything together with a tiny string,
That only our own souls could bring.
But why? Why should our love embrace,
And not Mother Venus’ in the first place?
To have something so pure not even Venus can deny—
To be that euphoric all the time, and not be high.
So high in the sky that Saturn’s rings heard of it,
And Mars and Mercury were jealous to admit...
Other galaxies just couldn’t justify the price,
Of living a life and not having to roll the dice.
Two heartbeats that aligned so perfectly,
And a destiny that changed abruptly,
Could become more than Orion ever imagined—
And bigger than the Big Bang, like it never happened
-Not in pink-
My paper is almost full and my hand tired…
Is it possible that our words would be wired?
I’m writing with the pen that you gave me—
It haunts my memories and brings me misery.
I’m done watching and getting nothing in return,
I want to write my life in colour and to feel the burn:
The cold, the sadness, the warm—I simply need to learn
To be a human, and to make mistakes;
Because after all, you finally get what it takes
To be alive and to write even a single word,
Since it’s so hard to cut the umbilical cord...
Please, just stop writing for once—get up and leave.
But before, write me nice, and not make me grieve.
It’s the one and only request I have to make;
The others are gone, and there’s no more risk to take.
I’m exhausted, and I have no more ink—
And no, I don’t want to write in your pink,
In purple, red, orange, or green,
Because we’ve never, ever been a team…