I remember the day I got those roses

A beautiful vase

Bright colors

Soft petals

A note of love intwined in the stems

I pricked my hands on the thorns

An omen foreshadowing our love

Pain within beauty

But to me it all seemed worth it

How could something so beautiful

come with such hurt

Now your long gone

All that’s left are memories

But they aren’t good memories anymore

They’re memories of fights

Screaming and crying and running away

Now I stare at those roses

Long ago they wilted and whitherd

The note a pile of ash in the trash

And the memory of thorns etched into my skin

I thought our love was forever beautiful and gentle

Now all that’s left are these dead roses