unrequited love,
like a thorn
of a rose,
pierces
through my heart.
unwilling
to remove
because of the pain
that comes with
creating
a wound.
unwilling
to just forget
because of the pain
that comes with
leaving it
unattended.
but then i realize
that
there will be scarring
either way,
that
it will hurt
so disproportionately
at first ,
that
it will not
disappear overtime,
but merely
decrease in impact
until
its existence
merely exists—
until
its existence
is accepted
as only
a part of me
and not
all of me.