The Rose's Stem

Alone, shattered, lonely;
No one knows
She exists.
She's the rose's stem.
The cuts on her arms
portray her thoughts;
numb, deep, hidden.
Yet she holds
a beautiful flower;
deep red petals,
growing, gleaming, giving.
She's the rose's stem.
Does anyone ever
admire a stem?
Or do they look beyond
for beauty;
perfection?
The stem is alone,
feeling abused,
hated, forgotten.
She's the rose's stem.
Her eyes close
into perpetual sleep.
The razor falls
out of her cold hand.
The stem wilts,
the rose dies.
She's the rose's stem.