When I was a young, I had notebooks and notebooks fullt of pages expressing my intermost thoughts and feelings. Pages stained by mascara filled tears. Dreams to one day become an author. Lists of novels to read. Letters to boys who would never read them. Hopes to one day find someone who reciprocated the intensity of love that I was yearning to express.
As I grew older, I stopped writing. I stopped reading. I shoved my love for words and stories into a place where no one could see it. I started to bottle my feelings and thoughts up. I continually turned to people in order to fill the void of my expression outlet. I cherished relationships with friends that would listen. I fell into toxic relationships with boys who would give me any attention whatsoever (even if was negative attention). I lost a piece of myself.
Burning Roses is me declaring to myself, that I will never fall into that place again. I will never push my passion into a corner again. Burning Roses is me deciding to find peace through all of the hurt that has accumulated over the years. Burning Roses is me promising to never throw my journals and notebooks in the trash ever again. Burning Roses is me telling my story, a drop at a time.
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