Rusted FlowersFrom her heart’stear-salted soil,rusted flowers grew.A serrated beauty;wounding all those who bent near.

I am no blank slate for love to write on.My heart has walls marred with cracks,bloodstains, and bullet holes;graffitied over by past lovers.

She thirsted for love, but found only a mirage. Some hearts are a desert you can die wandering in.

After what she's been through, there really should be crime scene tape around her heart.