Pieces of Grace all scattered around,
much like confetti all over the ground.

So hard to pick up, yet easy to see,
I wonder why she chooses to stay here with me.

I cannot understand why she sings so off key,
or why her laugh often sounds like a hive full of bees.

She dances in the rain in nothing but shoes,
and I smile relentlessly as though it was a ruse.

Grace is so muted in such a powerful way,
and I want to be with her all night and all day.

"Please tell me your secrets and I will never tell,
I want to be just like you, so bold and so swell."

Pieces of Grace are what make her so grand,
but she is not alone so please understand,

We all are like Grace underneath our soft skin,
because loving ourselves is never a sin.

Daisies grow under my bed every time you kiss me goodnight.
I can smell their floral scent as they creep around my bed, trying to wrap me up in their dark green stems.
The petals, they fall, all around the outline of your fragile, milky body.
I cannot touch you, for your skin burns of lust and passion, and you make me feel as though you are too good to be true.
I doubted your existence until the daisies blossomed, because I feared you walked out of my sleeping mind, to fall right into my arms.
The daisies remind me that you were my dream,
and you came true.