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The Jagged Thorns Of A Rose...
i was talking to regret
just recently
she asked me if ill feel pain
if you fail to remember me
when everything about us
and everything between us
drowns with the sunset
when better becomes
no looking back
when better means forget
i told her that
its not much of my concern
for ive been here before
a thousand times
then she asked me what i learned
"i always keep
a rose here in my pocket"
thats all that i could say
"then what?" she asked
and then youll wait
for the thorns to give
you away?
they cut i know
sometimes so deep
but the deeper my wounds are
the more likely it is
that another rose will
spring out from
the soil nourished
by the drops of my blood
then all i can see
is the allure of the flower
not the thorns
the thorns are just you
jagged sometimes to slit my skin
just to wake me up
cause you never understood.
