7.1.16 // #5 – i am made of thorns

keep your roses, please
just the petals for you, right?
i’ll sleep with the thorns tonight

you gladly handed them over
remember how you pricked me?
with gold, poisoned spikes


keep the fucking flowers, whore
i love the look of my blood
staining my fair palms
becoming rust under dark nails
and scars under black hearts
how you ruined me
roses were always my favorite
but never for their flower

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