Bleeding Rose

Bleeding rose in bleeding hand,
The sharpest of thorns,
Inside my head.
Rich red velvet,
Drizzling, falling.
It can’t be caught,
Slips through the gap.
This bleeding rose,
Did nothing wrong.
Yet it bleeds..
The petals fall,
And pain’s removed,
For just a while,
As thorns left deep inside embed.
This bleeding rose in bleeding hand.