Sunday, December 4, 2016

Rose.

you cut me
with a knife my blood ran
onto your fingers, then to the ground

you left in glee
at the sight of me

i stared at the ground
knowing the need to rise
but never quite finding strength

the blood flowed
mingled with water
diluted
it ran in the shape of a rose

it reminded me of life
diluted
but shaped like a rose.





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