I've always had a soft heart.
People often find ways to use it
against me, but still, I stay soft.
They say it's a weakness, to care.
I say it's a strength.
To stay caring about everything in
a world where it's far too easy to
close up, turn your walls into
brick and never let anyone in.
My softness is not a weakness.
It is the best things about myself.
I whisper into sunflowers and
they grow out of my skin.
I have a garden in my lungs,
blooming under the warmth of
my delicate care.
My softness is what makes me
human, what makes me so
uniquely me.
I don't know who I'd be without it.
My heart on my sleeve is one
thing I carry so proudly,
and **** does it look exquisite on me.