I don’t want to be a rosebud anymore,
Nothing but the softest, sweetest lips-
I want to be a feather- a wisp of a thing,
Yes, you can crush it but you cannot
Keep it in your pocket to crush again later.
I do not have enough of an existence
For you to own me. One breeze and I’d be free.
I’ve always wondered what that might feel like,
Because sometimes I am nothing but a…