I'm torn between being soft like dancing rose petals in warm, deep,
bath water floating effortlessly at the fingertips of those who ooze love for one another,
or should I be rough like their jagged thorns portecting myself from anyone who dares to touch me.
Touch me softly as not to ruin my unkept beauty, but then again please don't touch for your sake and mine,
my thorns will prick you, bother you and make you bleed ruby red droplets from your skin.
Sometimes with intention and sometimes not either way, it hurts us both.