The iron-flower closes, never to be opened again.
Inside, the darkness rests, only to be awakened again.
Once it was open, the sun beams hurt it, and it will never open again.
It drinks from the ground, polluted water.

But the water doesn’t weaken it.
Suddenly the flower shines again.
But inside the flower is rotting.
Still longing for the sun.
But the sun makes the flower remember.
Remember a time of agony and misery.
Suddenly the flower shatters, the iron parts fall of the flower.
Leaving the flower naked without any protection.
Now the flower is standing there, still closed, but vulnerable.
Waiting to be hurt, being hurt.

By Putredinis

???? I'm Me.