Beautiful Poison.

There's a rose stuck to my cheek
with a poison thorn that's starting to leak
into my veins; it hurts like hell,
yet I'm focusing on the rose's smell
and thinking of just how pretty it seems
as the poison enters my body in streams.
I could save myself just by washing the flower
off of my face within the next hour
but it appears I'd rather die than release
this beautiful rose with its poison disease.