Her ****** is her love.
A passage dressed in blue only to convince you of your faith. 
Vast and sacred, her grim blackened skin will wash you clean.
Rose’s bleed the symbol O as infinite as the number 8. (oxygen)
Her love is as thick as a mothers blood, while she forgives but never forgets. Consciousness lays at her feet in honor not defeat.
Your impressions are sheer for you to burn and turn to Ashe and never learn.

out of the blue you came,
and for that i was the blame.

the house was too crowded,
sweaty bodies and red cups enshrouded.

i looked and looked around,
but you didn't want to be found.

and then in the backyard i saw you,
noticed you right through.

i asked you 'what's the matter',
you said 'i would rather'.

i gave you a questioning look,
you asked, 'are you Brooke'.

i chuckled at you guess,
and straightened my dress.

you got up,
and pushed the red cup.

i opened my mouth to talk,
but further you walked.

you cupped my neck,
and gave me a peck.

i gasped for air,
and ran my hands through your hair.

your lips connected to mine again,
and realization hit me then.

i was too good for you,
and you were too good for me.

we didn't match,
we were a mismatch.

but just so you know,
i loved you all along.
even though we both said no,
we were wrong.

you were such a party destroyer,
you destroyed me, completely,
mind and body.