Decaying Roses

Well, this garden became a bad mess
Life devoured every last stem
And these petals are all I have left
So I ask this:
Will you love me when my roses decay?
Will you love me when my roses decay?
I watched you stare into my eyes
Please tell me what’d you find
Is it worthy to analyze?
I felt that shift in paradigm
No paradise, just had to lay there and cry
Then watch you leave which led to me
Re-plotting my demise
June 20th, give me back my pride
So I could try to polish all of my confessions
And make them seem less obsessive
That way you won’t seem terrified
But it goes both ways, look how scared am I
These damaged roots made its way to my petals
Simply decaying until my face is buried in meadows
Passion and pain but no demon slaying, how could I settle
To let these distant fantasies plague my frequency level?
Regardless of the lack of releasers, I’ll let these wounds be my guide
Depressive by design, I’m meant to be alive in the time of my demise
So you don’t cry, just recognize that after I die