Beautiful Roses,
All sorts of colours.

Golden, Darkened, Blushing, Romantic, Purity, Royalty, and Sunset,

One Midnight to cover the hole that had went missing, Midnight being replaced by the Sun itself.

Gold, Black, Pink, Red, White, Purple, Orange, Blue and Yellow pretty roses. All reminded of a time life was sweet as sugar..

Gone.

Over something I shouldn’t have trusted, over something that had mentally broken me and others. Somedays I only have to be thankful I haven’t wilted like a flower.

Yet him, he is like a rose dipped in liquid-nitrogen.. and I will end up shattering him.

If they are just flowers, why do the thorns hurt more than ever before? Are the thorns memories or regrets? I can’t tell anymore sadly.

Those were mine, you had no right to destroy them.

So end your life like the weed you’re meant to be.

Cause unlike me, you sure like existing in places you don’t belong: On earth.

If you stop obsessing over me maybe then your plan would work, y’know? Trying to sound smart when we all know you f u c k other plants, just stick with a hoe.