SHE WAS A ROSE
Nikki Bella Garcia
He thought she was a beautiful flower
And I was a dandelion “weed.”
Yes, she was a flower—a ruby red rose—
And, yes, she was ravishing to the eye, but
She was deadly to the touch.
What he failed to realize was that I was a flower too;
One beautiful in her own way;
Of course, it wasn’t in the apparent way like her,
For I was not a rose.
And I shriveled in her shadows
As she took all the nutrients, his sunlight attention.
But he couldn’t see that.
He didn’t understand when he was captivated, looking at her petals,
That he had stabbed his hand grabbing the thorns surrounding her.
And every time he’d bleed he’d look down at me, and blamed me for his pain.
He was so blinded by love that he couldn’t see me other than something killing
his magnificent rose;
He couldn’t see me other than something killing him.
When in reality she’s killing me,
He thought I was sucking the life out of his rose and causing her to hurt him.
So he did what he was taught to do:
He dug up his problems,
He got rid of his “weed,”
He killed me trying to save her
And he was left with what he thought he wanted.
SHOUT 