you are the rose without thorns
the berries without the poison
the winter without the cold
yet unatural,
because nothing can be beautiful
without its danger.
and in reality,
the danger is the beauty.
without the danger holding in all that mysteriousness, risk, and regret,
a beautiful thing can be considered a vase.
a vase would be pretty to look at
striking to hold in ones hands and admire from all angles.
but it would never be able to outshine even the wilting flowers placed in the emptyness of it.
never be able to help you in need
or do anything other then be empty and blindlessly beautiful
so strive to be the danger,
be the thorns and the poison and the cold
and all the things considered dangerous
because beauty in itself
is nothing without it.
