Blossoming Death
Blossoming Death ode stories
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kaylynn
kaylynnAwkward writer girl
Autoplay OFF  •  2 months ago
When the love poem becomes deranged poetry.

Blossoming Death

Roses are dead.

Roses are dead. Violets are doomed.

These are all the reasons,

These are all the reasons, As to why I hate you.

I spew anger and jealousy,

I spew anger and jealousy, rather than gentle, love filled poetry.

I twist and tuck my skin, trying to hide the body I allowed to be defiled.

My confidence nose-dives, doubt surfacing at every positive thought.

I deserve nothing, you told me.

Because you have everything.

While I suffer with nothing.

When in reality,

When in reality, I drown from my everything, giving in to the nothing.

Hoping it can save me from the worry.

Of amounting to anything.

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