I followed the trail of flowers.

They led me to you, my love.

I can’t even speak to you in coherent sentences.

You make me too nervous even though

I talk about you all the time.

The things I hear make me feel like I

Am the flower in Beauty and the Beast,

Wilting slowly, but I rise against them,

I poke through the sidewalk

Dodging the stomping feet of people,

Until you pick me from the ground.

You plucked the petals, and got,

Loves me not, I found you crying,

And wrapped my arms ‘round you softly.

I whispered to you, “Darling, I will love you forever,

Even when we’re old.

Even when we die and you rise above to see the heavens,

While I sink down low, to grow from the ground again. Darling,

I am your rose, only for you to pick,

Only for you when we die,

Again and again, I will never leave.

And never stop loving you.”

You whispered, “What about when I

Become your rose? Will you love me even if I wilt and die, even

If I cry and cover your shirt in my tears?”

“Of course, I will. I am your rose, I am yours to hold, to cry on,

To wilt and die on.”

Darling, I am your rose, just follow the trail of flowers, and you will see me.