I prick my finger
on the roses you give me
the third time
we get back together
and I realize
in the moment, perhaps
the only constant thing I'll ever know
about love
every flower is beautiful afar
but you have to bare the thorns
to smell the petals
b.g
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Memoirs From A Teenage Female
Poetrypieces of my heart from all different months and times. if this makes you feel less alone then I have done what I have set out to do.
