if there is a winding road,
one that leads to my heart,
it must be paved with broken glass.
it must be prowled at night by creatures that destroy anyone who tries to walk the path to my heart.
why else would i be so hard to love?
wilting flowers.
littering the road.
not quite dead yet.
they only live to make poisonous fumes.
they only live to kill others.
i feel like i should have the directions to my heart,
but i am just as lost as everyone else.
stranded on the side of the road,
i scream.
YOU ARE READING
love is like a roller coaster
Poesía𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙪𝙥 𝙨𝙤 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙞𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙. the hopeless ramblings of a hopeless romantic. > (completed)
