Stem of the rose

My blood streams down the stem of the rose, crimson petals seem to darken with each new drink of heartbreak, my hands laden with scars , remnants of the thorns.
And yet I still don't let go.
I wonder what I'm holding on to ?
I it is me ,that is the reason for the blossom at all,the petals are stained in my pains .
Beautiful dreams, laying and wished upon, spent heartbeats of hope that never had a chance, the horizon past the pain that I was always looking upon.
Simply isn't meant to bloom.
and yet for some reason , I still can't let go.
So my blood streams down the stem of the rose .....