You're a blinding red flower
But not a dainty poppy.
You are red in the way that a rose is.
You're richer in color: a color that more closely resembles blood.
No matter how many times I'm hurt by your thorns,
I'll reach for the stem of you with a bandaged hand
Time and time again.
I've always been too distracted by your flourishing petals
To acknowledge your roots.
YOU ARE READING
Euphemism
Puisi"I believe that maturity isn't dependent on age, But rather the severity of the trials the mind and heart have undergone." Growing up comes with so many challenges that can be uncomfortable and confusing. We're all thrown into the ocean and expec...
