A Boy And His Box

Thorns

Have you ever felt like a cactus surrounded by a bed roses?
Hearing them chant "Every rose has its thorns" while you stand their towering over them wondering how many thorns is to many for someone to handle?
You stand their just wanting to be touched knowing its a task that not just anyone can handle.
How careful they must be to get to the sweet nectar inside of you.
Wanting so badly to be opened up you peel away at your thorns trying to invite someone in.
But they always grow back, stronger then they were before.
As if it was imprinted in your genes to be impossible to be broken into.
Like the opposite of a prison ,yet you still feel trapped.
And as all the roses begin to decay and die from the baggage of being to beautiful.
You are stuck in your lonely desert.
With standing hardship independently as you were taught to do.
Trust me when I say there is beauty in being the only living thing standing.
To have the enough fight in you to last for decades and too need little help from anyone other than yourself.
All you need to do is stand there.
One day someone will be wondering in your desert.
On the edge of the afterlife , looking for the water to save their life when they stumble upon you.
You could save someone's life one day.
You could be what they need most.
In the end, it will all be worth it.