April,
April came with my love for roses but my hate for thorns. I fell in love with the Rose and not what it came with, i wasn't ready for the terms and conditions.
I wish I knew what it felt like to press my skin against cold walls and feel nothing but heat radiating inside me.
I wish I knew the dangers of not loving myself and how they aren't to be tempered with; also... how big of a revolution it is.
I wish I knew how to love without conditions and how to lust with conditions.
I wish I knew how to water roses while they're still alive and not dead.
My garden is filled with dead roses; and hope comes when they all die.
I guess that was a lesson I wasn't fully ready to learn yet
YOU ARE READING
2017
PoetryThis is a series of poems about the year 2017; each month at a time. Hope you enjoy and come back for more?
