In all honesty, I've let people in who didn't deserve it. I let them in, allowing them access to my heart so freely, trusting them with my broken self. They planted seeds in me, and I slowly waited for the rose to blossom, thinking they too would be patient and watch the flower they had planted grow. Although roses are beautiful, before the rose comes the thorns; how they say, before the happiness comes the storm. The thorns grew, prickling against my lungs, preventing my breathing, yet I let them for I was waiting for what came next. But when you neglect a flower, it doesn't grow, and that's what they did; the left without watering what they had planted. All that is remaining of them, is weeds and limp stems, waiting to be loved again. So I say this now, if I let you in and decide to let another seed sprout, please don't leave me before seeing the beauty that is to come. And if, only if I'm really lucky, you'll stay, and instead of just a rose, you'll plant a garden.
— nada
YOU ARE READING
love letters you will never read
PoetryI have stopped waiting for a reply back from you. Because all my letters, all of them, never reach you. I write love letters with an addressee, an address, enveloped and stamped... but they never reach the postbox. I write love letters you will nev...
