Can’t handle your thorns.

I’m sorry I gave you everything I had without asking if you wanted it
Fell in love with your appearance
Not until now did I open my eyes to your personality
Funny to me, bad habit of laughing at serious moments
Seems I expected too much from you, sorry, can’t lower my expectations
Don’t worry when we cross paths and I fight with you
Panic when I stop, then, nothing is left worth fighting for
Your beauty exceeds all though
A rose you are
But hell no!
I can’t handle your thorns.



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