if you bring me roses
I'll tell you I like them half-dead
and petal by petal, the rose closes
as I stare at it from my bed.
would you teach me how to love,
how to love a blooming rose?
your hand could fit mine like a glove
yet I'll still hide the feelings that arose.
I love escaping,
but please hold onto me even if our love is slipping.

I just want somebody to love me.
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