It’s your turn now
to wear the blanket of thorns,
though I will admit
I didn’t think it would be so soon.

The pain is intense, I know
from all the times I’ve had to endure it,
thorns surging through flesh, spearing your heart,
and splitting your bone.

The first few days are for the shock,
the slow comprehension of impossible agony.
There’s time to dwell on what he did to you
so your mind can discover every little prick,

every long period of silence,
ever cancelled plan
followed by the perfect arrangement of words
stringing the bait of proposed bliss,

how you bought it without question.
That’s where the pain truly slips in.
That’s when you feel the weight
of every thorn tearing into your flesh.

You’re not even at the part where you realize
removing this blanket means
tearing out each individual thorn.
Oh, how you will bleed.

My heart breaks that you must face this,
to inherit this curse instead of your fantasy
but reality is a cruel bitch.
Settle in. It’s going to be a long road.