A flower,
A beautiful bloom,
A well-lit room,
A beautiful girl,
Latina and lovely.
She made my scars beautiful,
With the soft touch of a sharpie,
And the graceful touch of art.
There is a flower, about 1cm above this scar
And I hope it never fades.
Such a simple flower,
But it took my breathe away.
I just want her to stay,
And leave flowers scattered here,
All over my being, making my
Misery more manageable, drawing
Flowers upon my soul.