another fragile
fucking flower
stomped down
and my façades
of self-worth
under foot
trampled by feet
unnoticed until
I grow thorns
I become a weed
still not enough
to stop steps
treading along
so do I escalate
and threaten
to poison
and risk
my own
as noxious
or keep
growing back
after each
only less
each time
than before
desperately trying
to slip between
the cracks of
no other place
to grow and
nothing between
than this available
veneer of society
is as thin as the
cement cracks through
which I slip
a regrettable soliloquy