It wasn't just a dark rose, it was the life of innocence, as each petal she clenched, fell to the ground. It was a life of hope, Hope that one day, her love might be enough. It wasn't just a dark rose, it was a broken heart, aching from the countless lies told, an aching heart, wondering how he could be so cold. It wasn't just a dark rose, as the bloody knife clattered on the ground, and the lovely red petals were engulfed in her blood. It really wasn't just a dark rose. It was her pain, it was her guilt, It was her suffering, But whilst she lived, a dark rose a day, and when she cried, she plucked a petal away. It wasn't just the dark roses, neither was it the pain when the last thing on her mind was his face, when the door closes. But all it was, was the love, of a no longer beating heart. A heart filled with innocence, and love for another, who without a doubt, is right now, With another. -BY RUTHIE DE GREAT ON THIS DAY-11/03/2021 NOTE FROM THE POET- I hope you Guys like the poem! tell me what you think about it in the comments!

She acts like today will be better. He avoids every little thing that's bad. She ignites anger and abhorrence and hurt and avoidance out of us. He brings forward hurt and opposition. They don't even know the emotions and thoughts they bring out of us. They don't know how hard I hurt, How much I hate them sometimes, How greatly it hurts to hear their voices, How hard it is to stay silent when I want to scream. They just don't know.