I'm writing what I see and
maybe it's all in my head but
I was a pink rose when I met you
You were mad for the beauty I contained
You wanted to steal it
To crush every petal beneath your fingers
Fingers that never loved me
Not in a real way or a healthy way
You took a knife to me
And cut off every thorn I had
All those lines of defense to protect myself
You cut them away one by one
And you didn't care if you went too deep
Cutting me until I bled
It was all the same to you
Maybe I knew you loved destruction
And maybe I thought I could change you
That I could be the flower you didn't destroy
But I should've ran when I saw the heap of dead flowers that you kept in your closet
But I'm older now
And I know more about the world
And I know that I don't need thorns to defend myself
When I have a strong gardener to watch over me
A gardener who found me crushed and dying
Dirty, trampled on, and broken
And who still thought I was beautiful
A gardener who put me back in the ground
And worked miracles to make me grow again
All my old dead petals fell away
And new ones grew
They grew in white and pure
More beautiful than before
And I was made new again
