her hands are like rosesso beautiful and delicateyet strong thorns adorn herlong fingers that yearn to hold youbut you run awayplucking her petals awa..
what makes you think i am okay?is it because i plaster on afake smile to hidebubbling boiling burstingpain underneathor is it because you don't knowwh..
what sound does a heart makewhen it's brokenunable to cry for helpbut is it like the snappingof twigs under yourseemingly gentle footstepsor is it lik..