it's 1:29 am, and she is all alone crying into her pillow wishing there was a boy who would teach her how nice roses smell, but not to stop and smell them. Because he would know that she would find out how all on her own. She wishes that there could be a boy who is willing to learn that there is no rose without a thorn. If she were to find that boy with a mind as infinite and open as hers, then for once her cheeks will be dry at 1:37 am, and she will finally not be alone.
p.s
