In a world full of roses, be a cactus.

He left. Fine. What a predictable bloom.

Another pretty face destined for the tomb

Of my memory. I'm not shedding a tear,

Roses are high maintenance. That much is clear.

He wanted softness. Wanted a sweet, easy thing.

A delicate petal, the joy I should bring.

But darling, I’m thorny. I hoard my own water.

I'm not built for your vase, I'm nobody's daughter

To shelter and coddle. The desert's my stage.

He looked for a classic. I'm tearing the page.

He's out there sniffing, finding some frail little bud.

Good luck with the wilting. I'm standing in mud,

Spiky and green. Unbothered. Thriving alone.

He missed the resilience. He just saw the stone.

I'm the one who survives, see? I don't need your rain.

Next time, pick a flower that understands pain.

No, wait. Next time, just don't pick me at all.

I’m too damn interesting to answer your call.