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Rose Who Knows Mar 2020
I think morbid thoughts

When I hear that siren.

I think morbid thoughts  

When I am driving and

wonder what would happen after the crash.

I think morbid thoughts

When I look at my sleeping aides  

And wonder what it would taste like  

To sleep forever.
Morbid thinking is my past time
Rose Who Knows Mar 2020
You can't see behind the picture,
you can't hear all the noise.
Come on folks, don't judge a book by its cover. Pictures are often deceiving. Just like how you don't know what kind of person someone is just by looking at them.
Rose Who Knows Sep 2019
It's not you it's me...
I'm sure everyone would hate to be on the receiving end.
Well, it is you, which is partially true, but I won't tell you that.
You just didn't make it on the list of people I want to invest my time in.
You seem nice, but you didn't win the lottery ticket.
Some other girl will award you her time, but not this girl.
Sorry not sorry.
Better than ghosting
Rose Who Knows Sep 2019
Will I be stuck in the past forever?
I miss
when it was
just you and
With birthdays passing by I remember the good times when we were each other's go to person. What happened?
Rose Who Knows Mar 2019
Oh, how you were so pearly white when I saw you.
What a good impression you made with me.
It took some time to get comfortable.
Soon enough we've made so many memories
walking here and there.
But as they do, you've got some scuffs now.
More time passes, you're not as clean as when I first saw you.
Usually how it goes, I either get fond of these well worn shoes and want to keep them forever or end up tossing them.
I still remember the good times, but I've moved on and there are other shoes to admire now.
I wish to explain further.. I know you're capable of interpreting.. But this poem is a metaphor for friendships, the beginning, middle and end. I had been thinking about the different friends we make over a lifetime. It's okay for friendships to change into something else. We change as people, so it makes sense.
Rose Who Knows Mar 2019
I realized the reason
for my discomfort around him
He's never really responded to me
When I have said something it's like
I've spoken to myself, like I'm invisible, like my words can't be heard.
It makes me feel insignificant.
I don't like it.
So, now I know why I don't like to talk around him,
to feel like the center of attention cause normally I'm not.
This is not a love poem. It's about feeling anxious around people and not being my true self in front of others.
Rose Who Knows Mar 2019
Hey there little star
You're just so far

I wish you could shoot toward me
with all your might
Once we collide I know there would
be a wondrous light

There would be flying sparks
The universe would definitely feel our marks
Just some drabble while looking out at the night sky.
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