'i've collected all the flowers for you'
the g i r l said to the b o y
'see?
i've nourished 'em for so long
watered 'em, plucked the weeds
j u s t
t o
m a k e
y o u
h a p p y
and see,
they've bloomed so beautifully in the end'
the boy grabbed one rose
'c a r e f u l l y'
she said
holding
her
breath
and the thorns pricked him hard
f r u s t r a t e d
he destroyed the flowers
little
did
he
know
just like this
thousands thorns pricked her
m o r e
d e e p
but
she. did. not. break.
rather
she embraced their
f l a w s
while
he
only
d e s t r o y e d
YOU ARE READING
Golden Bruises
Poetry- • ● p o e t r y ● • - ☆ ~ because all of your bruises have a golden story to tell ~ ☆ #itsnotaphase
