the autumn leaves fell
as your eyes became
the only thing i see
you rip me open,
but filled with truth and unawareness
they're like the sharpest thorns.

i cut myself
                        again.
and i'm still bleeding
it never stopped
i never broke away.
pain from roses?
almost not so painful.
it doesn't even burn,
it just keeps bleeding
          till you're done.

someday all these flowers will be gone
but there will be new ones to grow.
and dead trees will just keep existing
they neither breathe,
nor feel.
the same way i can't tell the difference
which pain is thrill,
and which is real.

*the autumn leaves fell
as your eyes became
my sweetest nightmare
you still rip me open.
perhaps paths crossed
but we passed by
the garden faded out forever.