To me you were like a rose, so beautiful, so delicate and so peaceful. All I ever wanted was to hold you and your rose of a heart but I soon realized that the tighter I held you the more your thorns began to dig into my skin and make me bleed. The tighter I held the harder it was for me to let go because your thorns were engraved into my skin, just like the memories of you ever loving me.
VOUS LISEZ
Letters To You
PoésieThe words that are never spoken are usually the words that need to be said
