Posted in Poetic Driblets

Pulling At A Rose

  

I’m so nervous it scares me

I don’t usually get like this. 

My hands are literally shaking

But I just blame it on the cold.

I’ve had moments like this before

But then again it wasn’t ever this way.

I wonder if it’s just on my side or maybe 

Maybe she’s going through the same thing 

Worried about simple shit.

Infected with pessimistic creations of an over active imagination.

Wish there was a light that would just switch on when it was honesty.

I know what she said, I heard it clear as day.

She loves me like the moon loves the night.

Caressing it and revealing it’s beauty but not stealing the light.

But yet thoughts stride in all directions through my mind.

I’ve been here before and I easily believed.

My hands hold this withered rose

Pulling off petal after petal torturing myself 

She loves me, she loves me not.

Tee

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Author:

Poet |Fiction Writer |Wannabe Comedian |Food lover |African |Zimbwabean

2 thoughts on “Pulling At A Rose

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