Given a rose with blood red petals,
Sharp thorns prick your fingers
But its the most beautiful thing you've ever seen,
Its so beautiful and so painful at the same time
The first petal began to fall,
Everyday it gets harder to breathe
Hard to get up in the morning
And to realize its another day
Without breathing in the scent,
Seeing and hearing her voice,
Nothing magical fills my heart
Forced to be cold blooded and hard,
Unable to pick up my own pieces
For they keep shattering repeatedly
She's my rose,
Pretty to look at
But will prick you and make you bleed
The final petal has withered away.
About Me
- Krissy Renee Bosworth
- I don't have very many dreams or goals that most people have, some that are definitely unreachable, but worth striving for. Every now and then I write a story in my head or pen a poem down. The only way I know how to express myself through words is through my writing.
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