A Rose's Thorn

I was thirteen when he broke me down. He tore into my skin and broke my spirit. He reformed me into his perfect little doll. I was sixteen when they found me torn and broken. They took me from my hell. They saved my life. I was sixteen when they built me up stronger. They took the broken bits and made them into something beautiful. They rebuilt me from the broken and used doll and created something beautiful and dangerous. I was seventeen when she uprooted the very light in my life. She took me and shoved me somewhere dark and dangerous. Somewhere that matched what I had become. They are trying to break me down. I won’t let them. For I am the rose, And my thorns are sharper than they appear.