We fell in love and I felt the gentle brush of scarlet petals.
They represented everything I wanted.
The red had a certain kind of beauty.
The kind of lovely flare that can only be described as elegant.
I craved the sweet aroma, wanted to drown in it.
We fell out of love and thorns wrapped tight around my throat.
They represented everything I lost.
They had a certain kind of horror.
The kind of pain that can only be described as wicked.
I hated the bitter aroma and choked on the scent.
YOU ARE READING
The Boy That Never Forgot Their Name
PoetryStep into the life of a mystery in this poetry collection exploring romance, death,pain, and creatures out of this realm. Forget what you have learned of heartbreak and ghosts because when you walk into the forest I promise that you will know the tr...
