Blood Stained Rose

Her tears could water 
The dying rose that lay 
In front of her . 
It was faded and wilted, 
Just like I was. 
A petal would fall and crumble, 
Just like a tear from her cheek. 
She couldn't bring the rose back to life. 
She couldn't bring me out of that mess. 
So, in a bloody frustration, 
She crumbled the rose. 
The thorns stabbed and stabbed her; 
She couldn't even feel the physical hurt, 
Just the mental pain and anger 
That grew greater and greater over those hits. 
A blood-stained and crumbled rose 
Couldn't bring her feelings of happiness. 
Just more and more hate for herself. 
She once told me that I was beautiful, 
And happy that I was alive and with her 
But her tears couldn't bring me out of that mess, 
So I crumbled. 
There I was, 
A broken, crumbled, and wilted rose.