🩸 Thorns and Tenderness

This is what love looks like when you’re still healing.

You keep walking through memories that cut.
You stop trusting softness because every time you did—
you bled.

But the rose still grows.
Even in the wreckage.
And that’s why this exists.

Not to decorate.
But to remind you:
You survived the thorn. And you still deserve the bloom.

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