Thorns

Trapped inside me with no way out, tightly bound by vines overgrown with thorns blistered into the skin. Nestled beneath, it became accustomed to attack the place which was the core of living. How do you heal with a wound so complicated and intricate that it is an unsolved maze ran through by many but never solved. So many people in and out thinking they know the way to the end. Pocking and touching, when does it end...stop. No one will figure it out; it's too different from what "they" know. But you knew, you knew what each wound felt like, the awkward feeling from the rooted thorns crashing into your heart... You helped... The distraction you gave unable me to feel, to move... To touch without getting pricked... Slowly you replaced things inside of me... You've planted a garden full of laughter and love, one that cannot be destroyed by the infection within... With each day, it grows, replacing each thorn with something bright, new... New like you… So let me breathe you in. Stay around and watch as the door closes and stops the flow from what is not wanted anymore. We will shovel it out together with not a speck to remain. We will listen to the vague sound of rain as it waters our hearts and allows us to take on a new path in the woods. One without thorns and vines.