Show me your thorns, I will not ask you to be less. Lay them between us as proof of everything you survived. Come to me as you are, unpruned and still wild at the edges. I do not come empty handed, only with open palms that know what it means to risk bleeding for something real. I won't turn away when it stings. I'll stay long enough to understand why you learned to grow this way. -Lyra Wren