People places and things, all fit into categories.
Her her her, my head is filled with allegories.

My heart is a rose.
Petal after petal…
I drop.

I love her.
I love her not.
I love her.
I love her not.

Through the leaves they pluck.

Thorn one; there one goes.
Thorn two; another one froze.

Maybe I have too many thickets.
Maybe I am too pungent.

Maybe they’re allergic.
Maybe they just hate roses.

I have yet to find the one
That will never be done

With me.

Be done with me.

Have I made a mistake by wishing for normality?

Am I wishing to be a lily when in fact I am not?

Thorns in my heart, thorns in my head.
I don’t think they’ll stop ‘till I’m dead.

Poison flows like the Atlantic.
I need help I’m getting frantic.

Another girl, another day.

Another day some part of me leaves.
I do not know what is missing from me.

But I feel like a maze.

A maze of thorns.

When I turn left and go too far
I get pricked.

When I turn right and go too far
I get pricked.

When I go in any direction too far
I get pricked.

I’m traveling blind and I just want to

Be picked.

Want to be picked.