slides into the room and tossess some flowers i picked earlier around to brighten up the place

so soft and delicate, yet butally plucked, for no better reason than it pleases the sences

why is it we are taught to equate our feminity to that of the flower? or more specifically the rose?

yielding, open , vulnerable, our petals tremble with the slightest wind
yet hidden beneath most roses do indeed lay more than one thorn