Perspective

Roses

Our love is toxic.

It blooms like a rose.

With petals of beautiful crimson red,

And thorns sharp like the point of a dagger.

"You must be cautious when picking roses,

Or you will end up bleeding."

Is what I told myself before I met you.

...

But your beauty was irresistible to me.

I chose you without remembrance
of my own words.

I let you into my life.

And you tore through my skin.

Leaving scars that would never disappear.

Marks that will never fade.

And memories that could never be erased.