Friday, August 2, 2013

Asshole

He sneaked in.
He bent down and picked the most beautiful rose.
I liked him.
I liked him with no butterflies. I liked him because he was there. I liked him because I did not dislike him. I liked him in a really cold way.
But I liked him.
He scratched off his linings.
He wrapped himself in a cold steel coating.
He got himself walls all around him.
All his rose petals were 'He loves me not' petals.
Asshole.

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