There is a rose among these thorns
Though my eyes will not address
For they seek comfort in these storms
Always aching to regress

I’ll overlook these deadly quills
And find them pierced in my skin
Watching the pain bleed out, it kills
To know my words never win

Slowly slipping
I’m tired of gripping
Onto something
That’s just but nothing
Without your touch
Equaling not too much
Than buried tears
Distanced by all my fears

I rather stumble not across
A needle to stitch my pain
Instead to lay at such a loss
With a peace out from the rain

Slowly slipping
I’m tired of gripping
Onto something
That’s just but nothing
Without your touch
Equaling not too much
Than buried tears
Distanced by all my fears

 
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