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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=448704" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sleeping With Roses</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'll have to stop thinking of you; <br>it is too much like kissing a dying rose<br>or speaking into a void<br>hearing only my own echos.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It is too teen-aged sad<br>to obsess like this; <br>memorizing your phone number backwards, <br>counting the steps to your house, <br>taping your photo inside my bra, <br>making up excuses<br>to be where you are, <br>or might be, <br>lingering<br>long after it is clear<br>you're not there, <br>and not coming.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'll have to snip these little traces of you from my mind; <br>remove your after-shave from the medicine cabinet, <br>cease discreetly inquiring of you<br>from mutual friends<br>whilst I pretend, <br>no real interest.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But they are not fooled; <br>they see this obsession's grip<br>and I'm sure silently lament<br>my entanglement in its delicate cords.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>And I, on my part, <br>while acknowledging it is odd and maybe unhealthy<br>for me to behave like this, <br>my Hearts Heart<br>knows what I really feel-<br>which is its better to have these memories<br>than to inhabit some memory less void.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No, better to wrap you lovingly<br>among my Gentle Regrets<br>than sleep with a dying rose<br>slowly bleeding<br>from its pin-prick thorns.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lonnie+Hicks">Lonnie Hicks</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=448704" data-title="Sleeping With Roses de Lonnie Hicks" data-description="I'll have to stop thinking of you; 
it is too much like kissing a dying rose
or speaking into a void
hearing only my own echos.

It is too teen-aged sad
to obsess like this; 
memorizing your phone number backwards, 
counting the steps to your hous..."></div>
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