Red Roses

when i was younger i was always told that if a boy is mean to you that means he likes you

which always seemed a little backwards to me but i thought that’s just how things worked

when i hit my teenage years i thought things would be different

more like the movies you know

boys would tell you they loved you from the get go

give you chocolate and roses, and want to run away with you

you my dear never gave me a bouquet

in fact you gave me the most beautiful bed of roses

but im not talking much about just any kind of flowers

not the ones that you just pick and eventually rot away

you gave me roses that made me realize i was just as beautiful as they are

roses that were delicate but wouldn’t wither away if you stepped on them

roses that stood tall as if they had pride, even if they weren’t someone’s favorite type of flower

but it seems to me that sometimes i forget roses grow with thorns attached

just like you

you made me feel beautiful and loved, like i was worth something and that i could be completely raw with you

i was so blinded by your beauty as a person that even when your thorns were stabbing me

i wouldn’t let go

in fact i would grip even harder because maybe if i held onto you a little tighter my hands would go numb 

i felt as if you were worth something to keep alive for as long as i could

but no matter how much i bandaged my wounds and continued to water you there was something missing

you weren’t withering away but i could tell our love was

it’s hard for me to comprehend how i could endure so much pain and try to nurture you the best i could yet still not be enough

but this is where we end my dear

im ripping your roots from my mind and finally letting my hands heal from holding onto you for too long

by Nya 

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