Every rose has its flaws,
A thorn for every petal, a story for every curve.
I bloom in all shapes and sizes, baby,
Shedding layers, revealing my soul,
One delicate fold at a time.

As we journey through life,
Every secret, every scar, locks into place,
Building the mosaic of who we are.

I’m sorry, baby.
Sorry that, at first, I seemed flawless to you.
A mirage of perfection disguising my chaos.
But when I grew comfortable, I let you in,
Shared the shadows that haunt me daily.

Would you listen, baby?
I need you to truly listen—
Not with the ears, but with the heart.
One-on-one, no interruptions,
just you and me.

If I stripped myself bare,
Revealed every flaw, every wound,
If I spoke from the deepest corners of my soul,
Would you...