Roses

These roses hold my blood,
The thorns prick my flesh
I am being stripped away
Pouring my self into these,
And now, to you, I give them.

You hold my roses, a gift of my soul
But you rip off the petals,
What are you doing?
Why are you doing this?
You are killing me.

You have destroyed the petals,
the beauty,
leaving only the thorns
the pain
the hate,

My life.

- Ashley Hemsath -