Paradise

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I was a storm in our garden, turning love's soft soil to dust.

In my mirror I saw shadows, but not the grace in your eyes

My words were a hammer, shattering the tender blooms
Of your trust, while my own heart lay in wreckage

I mistook destruction for passion, and the heat of my anger
For a blaze of intimacy. Now in solitude, I sift through the ruins.
Learning to love what's left.
Seeking paradise within

Wilted roses from me Where stories live. Discover now