Two flowers, one wreckage.

You are the most beautiful set of dying flowers I've ever seen.Jules: Your petals have faded into quiet colors that somehow still stand out and your perfume still lingers on everything you touch.But mine has shrunk into something ugly, something dangerous. My thorns are sharper than they've ever been. Rue: There’s nothing beautiful about a ghost. I’m not standing out, I’m just fading so loudly you can’t look away. But don’t call yourself ugly. You grew those thorns because I was too soft to protect us. You are the armor, and I’m just the wreckage. Jules: But you make pain seem so beautiful and warm, like sunset.While I stand in the shadows, old and hurt.We're both beautiful and broken you say but I think that's just you. I'm nothing pleasing to the eye. And I don't have any problem with being your armor.. I'd do it again if I could because that's where I belong...in the chaos, as the shield to precious plants like you. Rue: It’s not my fault you’re broken or that you have lost your beauty. You didn’t grow those thorns to save me, you grew them so I’d always be afraid of your sting. You call me “precious” just to keep me small. But I am not just some weak plant in your garden, and you aren’t my hero. You’re just building a wall around me because you’re scared of how bright I still burn. You do not want to protect me, you just want to own the wreckage. Jules: That's not Fair.I stayed even when your silence turned into thorns and pricked everything in sight.And I was going to save you nevertheless.But how could I when you turned every helping hand into something to bleed on. Rue: You stayed, but you didn’t stay for me. You stayed for the tragedy of it. You watched my silence turn into thorns but instead of leaving, you leaned into them just so you could say that you bled. You didn’t want to save me. You wanted to be a martyr in a story that was never about you. Jules: Maybe you're right.Maybe I did linger a bit too long.But I didn't bleed to be remembered, I didn't bleed for attention.I bled because you handed me your thorns and called it love.And I was foolish to hold them gently for so long till we were both nothing but ruins of our soul. Rue: Then we’re finally even. You didn’t stay for the love, you stayed for the wreckage. Now you’re finally part of it.

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