I went for a walk in a garden full of flowers.

Colorful and full of life, not exactly my mirror.

I plucked each one of them for hours.

Only one stood- a little white flower, delicate, but I feared her.

I let my storm rage over the garden. The sky was blue, and so was I.

To destroy those white petals, I did try.

Her roots were embedded in the ground—and in my heart.

It didn’t matter how hard I ripped them, they were still works of art.

I got on my knees near the flower; I felt like my feelings were too deep for only one knee.

She realized my darkness stains her dainty petals. I can’t let her be free.

The wind streamed through me; I was broken from her goodbyes.

I watched her stem grow, only for it to break, and heard her silent cries.