Swallowing Thorns
The Rosebush told me
I came from an “Ash Ketchum”
It didn’t matter though

The Rosebush was something beautiful, yet
Pluck
Pluck
Pluck

And a triplet of petals had lain in my hand
Elegant
Perfect
Beautiful
And yet all I saw was me
Empty
Cold
Dead
Longing to be beautiful

And an apology escaped my lips as
Three
Four
More
Petals fell into my mouth
Gracefully

Only to be swallowed
Whole
Thirteen
Fourteen
Another thirteen

Flowing through my body
Beauty
Beauty
Beauty
Filling every corner
Beauty
Beauty
Beauty

And they had always called me
Crazy
Crazy
Crazy
But I had become beautiful

Footsteps
One
Two
Three
Four
And More

“Goodbye,
Once again”
And I returned to the Ash Ketchum,
Crying
Knowing that I had only swallowed thorns.