In here eyes I was a rose. Beautiful, complex, pleasant- all an illusion to hide my thorns.

And it was you, too, who kept your distance afraid to get pricked by my thorns. Afraid of your imagination.

So if you all wish to see me this way, FINE. I am but a rose--

Naked, lucid and bare. Exposing myself

Hiding nothing, all I take is rain and sunshine.

Sadness and happiness. I ask nothing in return.

Just for you to be yourself. Talk to me and love me.

To me you may be a parasite, spending my color, exhausting my shine.

There are many ways to look at something,

Summed up, is it fact or fiction? To me all you are is what I make of you.

A fucking childish game!

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