The Girl With A Rose

Just a girl finding an escape in her poetry. Personal writings /Open Letters / A window to the turmoil | 29| ♊️ #poetry#PTSD#roiswiththorns Ig: roiswith_thorns #saAwarness

[roiswiththorns]

So many words,

In so many ways,

That I still can’t begin to feel.

Too many words,

I’ve left unsaid,

That I’ve started to come undone

-Rois🥀

[faustique]

saw the moon and thought of you

[asoulonfire75]

😈🖤♾️🌙🔒

[vexheart]

[the-enchanted-little-star]

[thoughtkick]

“You cannot make someone understand a message they are not ready to receive.”

— Unknown

[the-enchanted-little-star]

[radical-revolution]

[roiswiththorns]

A letter for the broken.

How do you hate the ones who never returned the same?

The children that came home broken adults.

Ashamed of the things they now knew but didn’t understand.

So they coped in the only way they knew how.

Hate the abuser,

Silence the noise,

Become the abuser,

End it there.

They left whole, but came back in shambles.

Some learned to fight the monsters..

While others became them.

Do you hate them?

Or what they have become?

So here is the reality.

We have all become broken.

But some were taught, shown how to heal.

While others swallowed it down.. became consumed.

So… they became what they only knew.

//END//

You see sometimes our hate stems from what others did not treat. Many of us use our crutch; our tragedy to define why we are that way. But in turn you are making an excuse for not taking responsibility. For allowing yourself to spill on others, not when you were too young and naive, but when you damn well knew it was wrong. Vllian’s are made in consequence, but villains stay that way when complacency is allowed to grow. And every single one of us is guilty of it. You. Me. Everyone. I’m not saying tear yourself to pieces every night, but see it, reflect, and end it.

Change is only made when we start rebuilding ourselves.

Because no one else can end the cycle but you.

[roiswiththorns]

It’s okay to live an average life.

It’s okay to live for something other than your job, other than that endless hustle and grind.

Sometimes your dreams aren’t becoming some renowned figure in society.

Being average or “mediocre”, is okay.

We are born to do more than just work, pay bills, and die.

Whether that be to just be content in an average house with a reliable car and a happy family.

Or traveling single with your pet.

Whatever happiness means to you is what’s important. Too often we are taught that if we didn’t earn enough money, or work enough hours, or bleed out lives and rip out our hearts for the world to see then we have accomplished nothing.

That’s not true.

Your success, your happiness is your interpretation alone.

I write for me and no one else. If that touches you and comforts you then I am happy for that.

But I am okay with being the small unknown writer. Because all that matters to me is those who loved me and still love me before all my successes. Who still love me even when I am average.

[roiswiththorns]

A letter for the broken.

How do you hate the ones who never returned the same?

The children that came home broken adults.

Ashamed of the things they now knew but didn’t understand.

So they coped in the only way they knew how.

Hate the abuser,

Silence the noise,

Become the abuser,

End it there.

They left whole, but came back in shambles.

Some learned to fight the monsters..

While others became them.

Do you hate them?

Or what they have become?

So here is the reality.

We have all become broken.

But some were taught, shown how to heal.

While others swallowed it down.. became consumed.

So… they became what they only knew.

//END//

You see sometimes our hate stems from what others did not treat. Many of us use our crutch; our tragedy to define why we are that way. But in turn you are making an excuse for not taking responsibility. For allowing yourself to spill on others, not when you were too young and naive, but when you damn well knew it was wrong. Vllian’s are made in consequence, but villains stay that way when complacency is allowed to grow. And every single one of us is guilty of it. You. Me. Everyone. I’m not saying tear yourself to pieces every night, but see it, reflect, and end it.

Change is only made when we start rebuilding ourselves.

Because no one else can end the cycle but you.

[rottweilerr]

[roiswiththorns]

I am a collection of novelties

Sprung on a shelf, casually passed by.

Yet, you do not see the years.

The memories.

Some like splendid aged wine, others like a stark white snow with a harrowing wind.

My soul carries the shards of pleasure and misfortune.

Trinkets that sparkle

And trinkets that are broken.

I am a collection of dusty Knick knacks.

Forgotten by some, a treasure to others.

-Rois🌹

[roiswiththorns]

I’ve tried to change the scenery before me.

Thinking that it would solve the issue.

Maybe if I change him, it’ll work.

Maybe if I change her, it’ll work.

But who am I kidding?

There is no amount of tweaking that will fix the horror inside my soul.

Night comes too quick, too fast.

Makes me wonder if I just crashed would it all be real?

Or have I been dreaming all along?

-Rois🥀🥀

[themasterofalchemy-deactivated2]

Eleanor Rigby

The man I love screams in the pieces of a broken mirror, In these horrible dreams I scramble to put him back together… To absolutely no avail.

Like coarse sand on begging knees- The glass embeds into my palms. I feel like shackles laying on debris, A rusted tool swallowing a lost cause.

Yes… I’m haunted, What of it? Seeing ghosts don’t mean I’m wanted, Just means- I'm a woman with dreams and a black veil. Yes... I'm exhausted. Worst of it? Seeing ghosts don't mean I'm wanted, Just means- I'm a grieving woman in a black veil.

Oh, yes! How my darling shattered me, Hit me where he knew me weak, Left me in black and in unending mourning Yet in dreams where the spirits speak, He is the soul trapped and bleeding.

So I feel like red knees on unforgiving sand, A preacher in a godless land, A woman who dreams of putting back together a man to no avail. A woman who wakes and puts on her laced black veil.

[roiswiththorns]

It will end in time….🥀

Insta: @roiswith_thorns

[vexheart]

[shmitty]

- these wasted words-

I cannot think of a more demonic lie

To slip and drip from the end

Of any forked tongue

That creativity and inspiration of the muse

That connection to that source

Cannot be obtained

Except through

Suffering or substance

Though it might have flowed freely

Captivatingly inspirational and deep

Does it even count?

Transient thoughts

Only to be wasted on the long drive

To float on into the bruised sunset sky

Existence only depends on the observer

Doesn't matter if I'm the only one who knows of it

And I

Like this vaporous vocabulary

These fleeting phrases

Will one day dissipate

Fade away into obscurity

And like them

I fear My true value

May never be known or understood

Oh

The wasted time

The wasted potential

......These wasted words

- l.a.-

[roiswiththorns]

🖤