Parachute

My heart was like a faulty parachute,
It would open for some and not for others,
There was no one for which I had a dispute,
Instead I simply didn't like to be smothered,
I've never enjoyed people getting too close,
Even though my purpose is for them to hold onto me,
For I found that human hearts are like a rose,
Despite their petals, their thorns are deadly,
So when the hearts less prickly would pull on my hand,
I'd release my saving colors into a thought bubble above,
And guide us down to a soft space of grassland,
Thinking this is the closest I will ever get to love,
And then there are the humans who I won't open for,
That sear me with their thorns and only worry about their value,
If they were to plunge to the ground, but what I never construed,
Is that when a human falls, the parachute has to die too.

-anna sluder

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