If you hold a flower to your heart, doesn't it bruise the petals?
As I hold you to my breast it certainly bruises my heart,
a raindrop on a petal only enhances the beauty of the flower,
Yet the salt tears that sting my eyes only streak my cheeks with mascara,
When the seed of the flower falls on stony ground it cannot hope to grow,
When my words of love fall on deaf ears, they too are like that seed on stony ground,
When your hands caress me, why do I tremble like the petals of that flower in the breeze?
When your lips touch mine, Why do I die a slow death like the flower as it sheds its petals?
When I see you why do I suddenly come alive and feel that stirring within me,
Like the germinating seed, pain and pleasure of life and death mix within me as I tell myself yet again
I'M NOT IN LOVE!