Your birth flower is a daisy,

Mine, a carnation.

Carnations, in my mind

Were bland.

Linked to my boring past,

They were disgusting.

No beauty like a snow pea.

No interest, no story like

A bleeding heart.

I didn't like carnations,

Not until you said you liked them.

I didn't like myself,

Not until you liked me.

A daisy,

Soft and sweet,

Simple yet intricate,

Beauty that brings mountains

to their knees,

A story to tell.

You,

You were my daisy.

And even though I didn't like it,

I was your carnation.