i can’t help
that you make me feel like a rose
on a cool afternoon.
sitting in the window
of an apartment looking over the park.
i sit there,
as a rose,
solitary and alone.
my light shades of pink
glimmering dimly in the distance.
it is as if i’m screaming,
look at me,
aren’t i pretty?
but by the time you look up
from the dusky street of the city,
my petals are withered and my bud is facing the ground.
like a heart that is broken.