Like petals falling off a rose.
I fell for you.
It was a beautiful sight.
The way the red petals hit the white snow.
Beautiful… The only word worthy of description.
He loved and was fascinated by me.
My petals fell one by one and you loved it.
‘It's beautiful’ You repeated.
Until I ran out. . .
You saw a fresh poppy flower and decided a naked rose...
Just was not enough for you.
No longer was I “beautiful”.
I was just an “ugly green stem”.
You told me I was wicked... Something worthy of death.
I was nothing but an ugly, cold vine of thorns.
My pain was felt when you touched me.
The drop of red falling from the pad of your finger.
You dropped me with a hiss.
You claimed the poppy does not have thorns.
But then again...
The poppy was never replaced.
I layed in the dirt broken and alone...
Watching you study, love, and praise the poppy.
Like she was truly the only flower you've ever seen.
I watched till I was nothing but a wilted memory.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.