They should have told you,
Unfolding is a battle.
You are not like a rose,
Petals gracefully unfurling.
A symphony of geometry.
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There was a light at the end of the tunnel that you failed to see.
The colors and smells of this world wouldn't let it be.
The flower bloomed sweet, but the taste was sour.
Each new branch, extended, devoured.
The thorns piece the fingers, the sap stung the hands.