You are what you constantly do.
You are your choices.
I’d always stay the same
A heart that thrives on the cold,
And no desire for change.
At least that’s what I’ve been told.
When I wake up alone, I’d at least have myself.
I had thought I was a thorn bush.
Only good for snagging clothes.
Struggling to bloom, fearing another ambush.
Jumping from one obsession to the next,
The only cure to avoid my life of avoidance is change.
To allow the sun to warm my heart so it may beat along side another’s.
The warmth of the sun will love my thorns back to life.
The choice to embrace the loving light and leaving the paralyzing cold will save me.
Allow my roses to bloom.
So please my sun, if I give you the power to love me, never give me a reason to go back to an escapee.
Drifting Poems 