Thorns Upon Your Sleeve

There was

a time I abhorred myself for things I’ve never felt; love behind the kiss, satisfaction’s pillars supporting bliss. Opportunity in those I miss the most, unrealized knives in the words I spoke.

I didn’t realize my strength, bearing down on the ones I was trying to save, suffocating them all the while.

There was

a time I reviled myself for roses, preoccupied with thorns. So enamoured with leaving your 

emotions no recourse was I, 

a forced sense of destiny seems like

divine intervention, passive-
aggressively choosing sides.

There was
a year or two I almost 
boycotted time as a 
symptom of 
occupying the prison 

in my mind; carving notches

in the walls of your 
optimism, 
playing waiting games with two

blank-sided dice.

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