She is a flower , not a rose. Roses have always been unmistakably cliché , baring nothing but it's beauty much like these girls baring nothing but the basic context of their faces. They would pick her ,they would temper with such alarming innocence. They will search for every Ray of light and they will try to destroy it. She will wilt , how could she not? She will wilt as they disarm her walls brick by brick , piece by piece.
They will betray her , masking their anguish through love until she opens up like fisted fingers , petal by petal and they will no doubt destroy this heart that she has gifted them with. Because that is what humans do , they destroy the very thing that would save their existence , the softness that exists inside of her humanity. There is too much selfishness in this relm , there is no balance. This world needs the selfish and the selfless to keep spinning.
They will fall apart without this jewel that is her heart. They picked her but her roots remain. She will grow , she will bloom , she will surpass every expectation from them that ever stood and she will leave you in absolute awe.
Through panic and pain her purity has remained. She will bare thorns of bitterness , she will bare thorns of burden and pain. Oh you beautiful flower with thorns. Even through death you overflow with forgiveness. That is your life long curse.
-Liyah Smith
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Love
PoetryLove is a balance , it is being stuck between the two options of selflessness and Selfishness. Love is a journey , one in which you will lose and gain from. Love can heal and destroy.
