It was always faking love.
So pure and aggressive,
all at once.
Abandoned and adhesive.
Like a child,
at first glance.
With vanity and persistence,
trying to prove its existence.
There it stands in front of you.
Still and ageless.
Staring at you as you move.
Wild and fearless.
Makes you think you can improve.
Oh! The rose, the rose...
Or what you used to call it,
"your other self",
before your drowning.
