Journal (Roses are for Love)

My mind trails off somewhere warm and hazy
      Covered by the aftertaste of comfort and belonging
My whole face petrifies except for my eyes
      Ever wondering, looking for something moving, alive…
The petal that fell overnight
      It smells sweet
            it tickles my nose, it tickles my lips
An attempt at caressing
shatters the crimson membrane
And I understand, finally
how something so soft can be so brittle
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