The rose behind the concrete

She walks like wildfire, ever unapologetically bold, With a look that pierces, and a soul uncontrolled. But beneath the blaze, a quiet ache resides, A soft heart wrapped in armor, where a small girl still cries All she yearns for is to be seen, truly known, Not just admired for when she stands alone. She wants to be heard without having to scream, To exist without folding herself into someone’s dream… wasting away Her walls were not born out of pride or disdain, But from a twelve year old's echoing pain. She swore to herself on a tear shed night, “No one would ever touch what they never made right”. She loves loud, like a thunderstorm in July, Fierce and protective, like a lion to the cub But whisper, “I love you,” and she won’t believe, Because every "I will stay" found a reason to leave. So now she sits in silence, behind her gaze, Counting the ghosts that haunt her for days. Praying for a normality that will never come, A life where love is safe, and hearts don’t run. But even in her pain, she stands tall and true, A fiery woman, fragile, yet stronger than you And if ever you see her tears behind her flame, Know that pain taught her never to play the lovers game…