They described house rattling screaming
and a blood stained bed.
All I remember is a rose
bloomed, plucked,
left to dry and crumble.
They tell me it would have smelled like grimy sweat
and rotting innocence
but my skin still smells like perfume
.
I've heard a rose is still a rose,
Even if it's crushed into dust
but I don't really feel all that broken most of the time.
People describe to me how I should feel,
and I'm pretty good at convincing myself it's real.
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