I am like a rose bush. There are parts of me that are beautiful and divine—like how I am loving, and I am kind, and I try my best to speak my mind. But like a rose bush, I am surrounded by thorns.
Every once in a while, someone makes their way past the thorns, although they were forewarned, and I let them in. I am loving and warm. I trust them with all I am, and I tell them all that I can, even though they’re merely a man.
Because after all, I am only a girl who longs to be loved the way that she loves—to be perceived the way that she sees, to be loved just for being herself and not pretending to be someone else.
So I tell them all that I want and all I believe, that is until they leave. I long to be loved the way that I love, but it turns out I am never enough—or I am always too much.
So the thorns that protect the parts of me that I never let anyone see grow back thicker and sharper than before. So this time, I know I am protected for sure.
Nov 10, 2025
Nov 10, 2025 at 8:52 PM UTC
I am like a rose bush. There are parts of me that are beautiful and divine—like how I am loving, and I am kind, and I try my best to speak my mind. But like a rose bush, I am surrounded by thorns.
Every once in a while, someone makes their way past the thorns, although they were forewarned, and I let them in. I am loving and warm. I trust them with all I am, and I tell them all that I can, even though they’re merely a man.
Because after all, I am only a girl who longs to be loved the way that she loves—to be perceived the way that she sees, to be loved just for being herself and not pretending to be someone else.
So I tell them all that I want and all I believe, that is until they leave. I long to be loved the way that I love, but it turns out I am never enough—or I am always too much.
So the thorns that protect the parts of me that I never let anyone see grow back thicker and sharper than before. So this time, I know I am protected for sure.