You've been hurt before, along with it the closing of doors.                                                        
  ­              I try to open you up,
but you're closed so tightly welded shut.                                  
With time brick turns to glass, despite just meeting, it feels at last.                        
         In your green house of flowers, my hearts been buried for hours.                                
    It needs somewhere to grow,
but for now it's just stowed.