ROSES

as you stood on the edge of the earth,

ready to breathe your last breath,

to be set free from the shackles of life

i drowned in your silhouette for the last time...

recalling how drawn i was to you,

to your darkness,

unable to separate you from your despair.

then, i knew, that i had fallen for your troubled youth

i realized that i knew not a thing about your joy,

nor had i ever met your hope,

so was it your pain that made you beautiful?

were your scars what made you whole?

now as you lay in eternal rest,

i can't help but ask myself,

"was it your blood that made my roses red?

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Hey! I wrote this piece in June, but due to circumstances beyond my control I wasn't able to post it... (life got crazy for a sec)

As always, thank you for reading, and see you on the next one!