Like a rose needs to be cultivated Left alone to grow Just enough shit thrown at it to Make it stronger brighter and more vibrant. Pruned, and regularly admired from afar,
I love him. More than words can say. Realise that. There always comes a day. If I were to lose him? I know I would survive. My teacher. Builds me; lends me tools. Hold on tight.
Not particularly sheltered but still I faltered. Persistent hesitancy, the shame of infancy. Mind games and seduction your love's my punishment. My love is your torture