How many times will I tell to myself that I'm tired?
How many times will I let myself down?
How many times will I cry on my bed every night?
How many times will I ask my worth? What I deserve?
The scenes i don't want to happen to me are happening over and over again and I never learn that's why I keep questioning myself. How many times will I keep coming back to what's breaking me?
When will I let go?
Will I ever let go?
I don't know where to start
Because I'm afraid to be alone.
Or maybe, I'm afraid to start all over again.
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Love of Roses [Poetry & Prose]
PoetryRoses are the flowers of Love; You are a rose That blooms on sunrise, And fell in sunset. Roses are the poems of love; You are the words I wrote, The rythmns of letters, For I am yours, And you are mine.
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