i was your january
and you were my may
a cold winter snowstorm,
a bright sunny day.
two polar opposites
who weren't meant to be.
i loved you.
you didn't love me.
YOU ARE READING
deadroses || poetry
Poetry"we had a vision though, now we dead roses" now, why did she send them? these broken down, wilted, beat up, rotten-looking flowers.
