His flaws are what made him beautiful to me,
Every single one like a red rose, I ignored the thorns.
I loved them all, for they made him human.
He was far better then perfection, he was real.
I was addicted to the pain, like he was tattooed on my heart.
He became a part of me, a part I now wish I could cut off.
Now I'm left with the scars from the thorns and a faded tattoo.
YOU ARE READING
Your embrace like bath water
PoetryAs you can probably tell, I met someone who made me feel "some type of way". Through these thoughts and poems i am attempting to preserve this feeling. Although it's in the past,I never wanna forget that I'm capable of feeling that good. This is a...
