You may think I’m just a 14-year-old

girl with authentic black hair, and blue- green eyes

But I know I’m more

way more

I’m not a book or a chair

or even a cup of water

although I may need it

I am a Rose

A beautifully blossomed  rose

When my pedals are wilted, brown, and falling on the cold, hard floor

sad and slowly dying

I have thorns very sharp ones I use for defence

sometimes I hurt people but not on purpose.

when I get the right amount of nourishment and water

I perk up

I am no longer a wilted, brown rose

Each individual red pedal represent the wilted, brown days I’ve lived

But the water

oh the water that makes me the beautiful flower I am

Disregarding the sharp, violent thorns

I am a nice flower

sitting in people’s homes

their eyes glistening

watching

The 14-year-old

with black hair, and blue-green eyes

slowly die