Rose Petals

they fall like
rose petals
naked and grieving
and alone

the stars, the rain
words spill out
on pages never read
welling up in my eye’s
falling down, down

and me; always
falling, always
irresistibly falling
losing the smile
of a happy little girl
who believed in fairytales

there is something about
brokenness that isn’t
as bad as
they make it out to be
it’s really just a lot
of losing and finding
and hurting

an endless process
of breaking and unbreaking
this world is
noise and color and tears

Posted by

Not much to tell, antisocial, bipolar, loner, poet. That's me in 4 word's.

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