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roses.
with thorns I lash.
 i tear into your weakness
 use your voice against you
 but with your eyes
 you unfold my petals too easily
 and you seemingly know my anatomy
 with a sense unlike others
 
 and with those eyes you pick me from the ground
 and rapidly I deteriorate
 because I meant not what I said
 
 then one by one
 my petals fall of
 and am left with but a stem
 but despite the lack of petals
 my thorns remain in place

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