Every Thorn

From distance,

you still looked soft enough to touch.

But the closer someone came,
the more they understood
how carefully life had taught you
to protect yourself.

Not because you were difficult to love.

But because life
had taught you
to pull away
before anyone could come too close.

And somehow,
I understood that.

It made me wonder
how much pain a heart must carry
before softness begins hiding behind thorns.

Because beneath all of it,
I could still see
the rose inside you
still trying to bloom.

And maybe you never realized
how badly I wanted to love
every hidden part of you.

Not to remove the thorns.

Not to change you.

Only to stay long enough
for you to stop being afraid
of being held.

Because I was ready
to be stung by every thorn
just to smell a bit of you.