Growing on you is the worst thing I could do

The thorns of your rose cause my heart to bleed tears. Your roots strangle my veins only allowing the minimun love circulation. Your petals fall and I still catch them. Why are you trapping me with your harmful dead roots? As I try to revive you with the love of H2O, you dig yourself deeper into the dry dirt of desperation. Your acceptance for me is only minimal if not nothing, but I stay growing on you while your thorns grave through my flesh. You'll never throw me away, but I will never be more than a weed to you.