Who knew just speaking to someone would create such happiness.
A rose growing internally. Petals of many colors and only a single scent is found.
The fire that burns inside with anger is put out with a mist of love. A kiss of hope.
A look that'll send shivers of ice down one's body, enough to startle my mind.
Words of hope spoken from itself. Words that actually have meaning.
Words that I look forward to seeing every single morning, every night.
The comfort knowing I can trust someone echoes throughout my skull.
Even if this is true, reality questions still lurk inside.
Have I finally found an eye in my storm? A break from those howling winds.
Will that comfort stay with me after the eye disappears? Or will it run for the hills to find a new life?
For once I think I trust this hope. I never want the rose inside of me to die.
I wish that it'll blossom for all of eternity.
I wish for his vines to hold mine. No thorn will ever keep us apart.
Although, this might all be a dream that I might never want to awake from.
What spell has kept me along for this long, yet I know it's not long enough.
If there ever is an unwanted end, maybe a wonderful bush of memories will thrive.
Until then, I'll keep smelling the roses, and cherishing them individually.
For all I know, our rose is growing.
And no thorn will keep it from doing so.
