Becoming trude from the ruins Poet Free verse

The Petals Hurt Too

Each petal cuts me in my sleep—
you call it soft,
but I bleed every time I touch it.
The mirror doesn’t cry with me anymore.
Only the fog stays.
It hums like a swallowed scream.

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Unseeking Seeker June 23, 2025 at 9:38 PM Dark and yet touching the soul deep within. Becoming trude from the ruins July 24, 2025 at 1:52 AM Thank you so much—your words truly mean a lot. I'm glad the poem reached you on that deeper level ?? – Becoming Trude from the Ruins