Love is not always roses, honey, and tea. Sometimes it is difficult being me.
And in the night if we are restless and our love struggles to make sense, know that I will fight for us.
Because I love you, and I know that you love me.
YOU ARE READING
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Poetrythis is the recipe of life said my mother as she held me in her arms as i wept think of those flowers you plant in the garden each year they will teach you that people too must wilt fall root rise in order to bloom - rupi kaur
