Let me see beyond your beautiful,
Let my fingers trace your scars,
Not to haunt you, or taunt you,
But to remind you of all your battles, that you have made it this far.


While everyone else gets to hear you laugh,
I want to be there whether you quietly sob, or when you scream your lungs out.
I wouldn't want to miss any uphill battles, Or any moments headed south.


While the world patiently waits to witness what you make,
I want to be a witness to whatever it is that makes you.


I will walk with you, bare-foot, slippers, sneakers or boots.
The world gets to adore the beauty of the rose,
While I find myself falling in love with the roots.