Proof my being

When the night is long
And sleep is short
I curse the pedals of roses
Undesired, unrequested, pitied
For their forced divorce

Deprived of their roots
Bound up for consumption
of worldly pleasures
To replace emotions
Compensate communication

For lack of words
A space of love
Worse, a vacuum
Incapable of filling
Not even with silence
So words scream in my head

I beg the stars
Burn in flames, my pain
Hurt! Proof my being in scars
Worth of existence, recognize me

Here.

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