roses.

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with thorns I lash.
i tear into your weakness
use your voice against you
but with your eyes
you unfold my petals too easily
and you seemingly know my anatomy
with a sense unlike others

and with those eyes you pick me from the ground
and rapidly I deteriorate
because I meant not what I said

then one by one
my petals fall of
and am left with but a stem
but despite the lack of petals
my thorns remain in place





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