she carried herself as if she
wasn't made of glass,
as if she didn't have the
potential to shatter at any
given moment.
as if her skin wasn't porcelain,
her eyes weren't emeralds,
her lips weren't rubies.
as if she wasn't priceless,
as if she wasn't one of a kind.
she presented herself to be
a bull in a china shop;
ready to destroy anything in its path
regardless of its beauty and worth,
and that included destroying
herself too.
The Rose and Her Thorns
By k-ashmir
a collections of thoughts, feelings, emotions that have been put into words and that have been gnawing at my... More