Beware the petals of which you pluck,
as though the stalk may have the thorns,
the petals can cut sharper than any thorn
may go instead.
  
For beauty is an illusion that can hide a
worse fate, to lie on a bed of petals a
thousand paper cuts dilute you innocence
lying  on a layer of silk knifes.
  
I would have taken the thorns any day,
as they show you what they are. Instead of
hiding the secrets within beauty more trouble
for the unwise who fear the thorns.

Though it is the petals that have the deppest cut instead.

smile like you don't wish you were dead.

Why do you hate me just because I am not the same gender as you?
Why do you hate me just because the complexion of my skin pigment is darker than yours?
Why do you hate me for not praying to the same God as you?
Why do you hate me for these man-made territorial boundaries I live within?
Why do you hate me because I love someone who is of the same gender as me?
Why do you hate me for something I cannot change?
Why do you hate?
I'll wonder why,
but I'll get no answers.
I'll continue to live in this hateful world.

Sometimes, you just need a reminder that your life is worth more than you think.

Bones for fingers,
paper for skin.
Bitterness of my struggle lingers,
I just want to be thin.

*Is that such a sin?

What do you see as you stare into my lifeless eyes?
What do you think about when you gaze into them?
Can you still love this soulless girl?