They call me Mr. Rose,
Bearer of lost love,
Mourner of memories.

There used to be a Mrs. Rose,
But she faded to nothing but a stray few,
Memories for me to weep over.

They call me Mr. Rose,
Because of this flower I pin on my suit,
More for the stab of the thorn than anything.

I don’t know what
love
is
When I can’t even bring
myself
To love someone
else
who loves
Me

As self-centered as it is
I can't help but stray
away
And hold myself back from that

Heartbreak

And


Grief

It’s killing
Me

And
I want nothing more
than to be
close to someone
That will hold me
close
like in all those
sappy portrayals
Of love,

But it doesn’t
come

I lay around


And wait for something
New.

Do you, too,
Look up at someone close
And wonder
How
They go about their journey
Without you?

Do you
Feel like you’re staring
Through frosted glass
At
some stranger
Who’s face
You’ve seen before?

Do you look up at the
Sky,
And see not a single
Star?

Do you
feel like you’re
Too close
To someone
you really love
But never really
Knew.

Do you?

Do you?

Is it just me
Or
do you,
too?