blossomfully

“And if I am a rose

I do not want a boy

Who will cut off my thorns

In the name of love.

Because I would rather wait,

Through wind and rain,

For one who

Does not wince

When he touches me;

And does not run

When my edges

Become too rough.

I would rather wait

For one

Who sits outside

During the storm

Instead of fleeing indoors

To escape the rain.

I will wait for the boy

Who is not so terrified

To love thorns,

But instead

Holds them close to his heart

And into his chest;

All the while whispering:

I love you,

I love you,

I swear it,

I do.”

Excerpt from a book I’ll never write #49 (via blossomfully)