the roses

i don’t think i’ve ever really been happy.

because i am a girl of long nights, and bloodstains. i don’t want to fight you, so just leave me the hell alone, okay?

i chisel my heart right out of my chest and keep it somewhere far away. because there is a time, and there is a place. but right now, you made a promise, little girl.

so i guess i’ll keep it, no matter what it takes. i’ll plaster on a smile, i’ll wash the dirty dishes ’til they break.

and i’ll clean them up tomorrow, but… not today. because i’m tired, and lonely, and maybe pandora’s box will open no matter what i do, but i still don’t want to encourage it any more than i have to.

so i sit there, in my office chair, waiting for the rain to come. for the endless woods, and the thunderstorm at hell’s gate. i look both ways, and run for my life; i’ll do anything to just get out of this place. but i think i lost a piece of myself in the roses; i haven’t heard from her since.

double checked the address, and sent old-fashioned letters all to no reply. but it’s all right, i guess. just one more part of growing up; i’m told that it happens, sometimes. that i’ll be all right, that the wound will heal with time.

and i have to believe that’s true.

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