Thorn

You’re the thorn in my side; the splinter in my hand; the rock in my shoe,

And I don’t know how to completely rid myself of you

As much as I’ve tried to keep my distance

You keep forcing ways to stay in existence

I’m long past the point of being worn thin

You don’t even need to be present to burrow in

You’ve burrowed for so long that you’ve left a scar

My past failure of a relationship that burned to char

Each time I try to remove you, you dig in with such flamboyance

That my flesh has found ways to grow over your annoyance

Not to say it doesn’t hurt, I fear it always will

There will always be scabs, under the scar, that need to heal

But you’re the thorn in my side that just keep twisting

The rock in my shoe that keeps on persisting

The splinter in my hand that keeps me from sparring

As I try to heal the scabbing and scarring.