The Rose

She walks very lightly on the shells that he has laid. For she doesn't want to step to hard and cause them to break. He cuts her heart like a knife, his tongue is the sword. While her heart shatters and through her eyes it pours. Darkness takes over the light and it's difficult to see. The woman imprisoned within her, is she me?
Always second guessing, afraid to have a voice. Who would have known the price that came with just one choice. The choice to love another became self sacrifice. Instead of receiving love she received a vice. Laughter and sunshine has been replaced by screams and storms. A beautiful rose that has lost all of its petals and is nothing but thorns. She is drowning in an ocean embodied by projection and hate. With dreams of the final escape. Where there are no cloudy skies or any storms and her heart can be free from the rose and its thorns.