My pain grows like a flower in my chest
Beauty blooms within me perilously
Red petals stab outward, piercing my breast
Hurt that blooms inside me dangerously.

Pain I wish I had never faced alone.
Much too late now, this began long before
Deep inside me the planted seed has grown
My soul has healed itself around the sore.

Try to pick the rose watered by my tears,
Risk exposure to a sharpened petal.
This has been growing inside me for years.
The rose and the pain gave me my mettle.

Do you accept the aching rose and me,
Risk embracing me and an injury?

07/28/2006

Author's Note: My first sonnet, ever. I fixed the rhyme in the last two lines.

Posted on 07/28/2006
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