You fall in love with the bright red, The beautiful person they are. You don't notice the thorns, Then one day you do. They cut you and hurt you, But the beautiful petals keep drawing you in. You look at the beauty the they hold, You ignore every bad thing others tell you about them. And then, One day, All it is is thorns. You can't find the beauty anymore. They hurt you. You purposely hurt yourself on their thorns. And you walk away. You walk away because Once a rose so brightly red and beautiful, Has turned into a rotten mess of thorns you never wanted to get into. Love is such a beautiful and yet painful thing.

Maybe the reason I enjoy nature, the trees, the flowers, is that I get to watch them flourish with life. As soon as you pick them and bring them home they look a little less pretty. You slowly fall out of love as you watch it rot and die. It doesn't smell like home anymore, but you hold on because it's the only thing you've ever known. No matter how deep the thorns cut, you keep it. Something about it won't let you let go. There's some sort of sick beauty in falling out of love.

you are so good at poetry I love it

how do you know your gay or something else? like I would be totally fine to date anyone no matter the gender but I only like guys so far idk I'm pretty young so I'm judging waiting rn but it's stressing me out