Thorns

Page 1

Thorns We are the quiet musical of betrayal stuck on repeat Your words are the unspoken brittle twist of backlash But I’d rather be twisted around those crossed thoughts of yours Than be stuck as a rose like you I am just the thorn stabbing your side

You’re just a rose stuck on a pedestal

I am just the thorn that enthrals the poisoned words you throw

We are just a sense of direction stuck in a bitter pattern of heartbreak


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