They all would wilt for you,
water you and nourish you,
wish the best for a blossom like you but
you are no flower,
you are but a thorn.
If you were to be a rosebush you'd
claim you're that beautiful,
decadent rose on top
but you're the sharpest, nastiest thorn
that people make a mistake of touching
when they pick the goddamn rose that you're not.
So instead of going for the best looking flower,
I go for the least amount of thorns.
Or, I get the garden tools.
I can cut the stem from the flower
and just have the good part
and cut you off,
make you wilt,
make your insides bleed.
I can wear gloves to protect myself,
or dig you up all together,
throw you away like the trash you are.
I will choose to take the good
and leave the the bad to feed to the wolves,
I'll leave you for the wolves.
Just kidding, they wouldn't want you.
They'd want some substance in their meal
and you're just shallow.
You put on a gorgeous, happy, loving facade
but you only have hurt when you look below the surface.