HOW PRETTY THE WILD FLOWERS

The next boy needs to be more.

And I know it sounds crazy but,

The first boy after "HIM" was passion, it was get a fix before I fixed me.Was Light it up quick, and burn out fast, well never last that way.

The next boy was better, he was laughter and late night panic attacks. He's "Tell me how I make it better," never really understanding why I said no.

And that boy was safe, a shore not wrecked by the storm. He was warm and dry and never needed to ask why. He was "I'll get down on one knee someday," but someday never came.

And I'm left,

I'll gatther up the seeds of doubt they left for me, I'll plant them in my own garden, my secret garden they never want to see.

So this next one needs to know I am broken, but that does not mean I need your rope and soil. I filled these cracks in me with lillies and forget-me-nots, I don't need you to pluck them out like weeds.

He needs to be more than every one that come before, he need to know how pretty the wild flowers can be.