when I first met her, she bled. thorns piercing her fingertips, crimson blurring into the roses she held, countless bandages covering her hands. her hair was short and choppy, cut with a dull blade. I often wondered why she didn't use that knife to strip away the thorns. I don't supposed it mattered. mercy the most beautiful woman I never fell in love with. i had to fall for him instead.All Rights Reserved
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