Herbicidal Wall Flower

She is not special or different.

Her delicacy goes unnoticed.

Cowering behind a mass of earth,

aching down to her roots.

She wants to be loved


To be watered with the most basic of liquids

but she is not special

No, she is not different.

She has only enough energy to crack the seed.

To let those shoots of intention reach into the dirt

Lifting her green fingers into the inquisitive sun


Flower in the garden,

cloud in the sky

they are not special

they are not different.

Linked together by nothing

besides their one sided arrangement


Roots so desperately clung to bits of indifferent soil

Interwoven and indistinguishable

None of the color coded, well-shaded maps to reality

found in a primary school textbook

Taken and taking, she is both the solution and the problem


Overgrown to the point of fearless abandon

The girl, the flower

 wilts as delicately as she lived

Dropping pedals like breadcrumbs

In the forest of the forgotten



◄ Diagnoses

Wishing I Were Sad ►


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