I felt the gentle touch of your hands
carefully avoiding all my thorns
giving birth to a flower
reserved only for your vase.
I poured out my whole heart
squeezing the love out of my every cell
bursting into a flower
created from all of my essence.
As you reached for it my thorns got in your way.
I could only hear the sounds of your steps
as every one of them took you quietly away
from the only love I was able to give.
I watch as my heart dies
in the slowly withering flower.
When it is gone, a hollow skin
of a cactus remains in a desert.
Wounds of Love
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