At first, I didn't like you.
I didn't know what to make of you.
You were too strange, too quiet, too different.
But now, peeling back these coarse, unremarkable petals,
I have discovered the soft, silent bud that sleeps within.
Can I rouse you, as you have awakened me from my complacency,
ripping me open, tearing through the hardened flesh,
surging through me like an oblivious beast?
Or will you have to discover your own strength,
the force
to will your flower to unfold?