I wish I was imagined as a flower much worse than a rose... I had often thought this over and over again before I had known that I was beyond the mere rose. I signified a love that was far more bitter and painful than any fairy tale story. And that my entirety was a solid poison surrounded by an illusionary flame of passion to grasp a so called potential that everyone seemed to see in me. In the result I stayed here waiting for him or she or they or anyone to pick me in this forest of roses we call a world. Because even if I surround myself with this false potential there will always be someone to call the bluff of my intelligence.
*authors note*
This is my first story on wattpad so any tips would be great
I don't know exactly when more parts Will come but I'm going to try for every monday
