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.