a red soft rose

smell of literal love

gives each other hope

but when you look at what’s holding her

hard and harmful thorns,

gives each other fear.

why do roses have thorns?

Why does love hurt?

Why is it that love is what i feel

but you’re not here?

distant in my soul

attatched to my control

please be part of my defects

and make me pretty with your seriousness

lets be one and not fight more

conect our quite opposite souls.

I’ll make you the thorn

but please make me a rose.