She is one of my roses, a red rose. It bloomed as hot as fire, scary red, dazzling red, unrealistic red, just like the gorgeous sunset burning in the sky, burning red and orange flames along the edge of the clouds, burning into my body. When I saw her, the blood in my body began to surge, and an indescribable impulse pounded in my chest, vowing to break out of my body and use life and love as nutrients to water this rose.
Intention: I don't love her anymore.