love like a rose, each delicate petal a part of you i love, soft and rich. a picture of perfection, wholesome and beautiful. but the closer you get to the root of me, the thornier i become. it's dangerous here, close to my heart, for i prick the tender hands of those who desire to cherish me. it's dark on the inside, not even the shadow of the beauty above graces it's sharp edges.
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Poems
PoetryI'm not much of a poet, but on the rare occasion I write a poem I will put it here.
