My love is a rose
It's blooming
But I'm holding it recklessly
And when my hand moves
A thorn pricks my skin
And red like the bud
Pours from within
It hurts but
The pain
Is something
I'm beginning to believe
I must endure
Because I need to know
I need to know
If this rose will survive
Shall I prolong it's suffering?
Keep it alive
Or will it die?
And will its death
Bring me sorrow
That I should avoid
By ending this love now?
...
My heart is a rock
And the rain has collected
In a crack
That has been there for so long
Now I feel the cold
Freezing the water
Turning it to
Ice
And it breaks
My rock
My heart
Shatters
In a million pieces
I can see it coming
You give me chills
Is it too late
To be warm again?
...
I handed you my heart
It's on a cushion
There for you to take
I think you know by now
That you can use it
Abuse it
Refuse it
You have yet to take it
But you flirt with it
Reaching closer
And closer
And I hold it out
In case perhaps
Your arm
Just won't extend
That far
But still you don't quite catch it
Don't quite grab it
Still you assure me that you'll take it
You love me
Yes, you love me
Take it please
I'm giving you my heart
...
That constant prevention
Constant restraint
It taints the rosebud
Slowly it dies
It freezes the ice
Breaks the rock
It pulls your hand away
From the heart upon the cushion
...
Maybe this is my fault
...
I avoided
Confronting this
For fear that it would hurt
But now I see
That it'll hurt less now
Than it would hurt later
...
I told you I loved you
I know that you love me
But I'm in love with you
...
Maybe this is my fault
...
I gave you my heart
But I never asked if you wanted it
#62
Copyright 2003 Nightingale
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/2074/22942 on Monday December 01st, 2008 06:05 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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