My Garden

 

I planted a garden full of flowers
after you went on your way
and each one had a memory
or piece of you where they lay.
The summer sun beat down on them,
and they flourished beneath my tears
I never knew that such flowers
thrived on sadness and fear. 
So my garden kept on growing
past the boundaries I had set
and sometimes I would admire them
and sometimes I'd look and regret…
because these flowers they were growing
into a garden that could not be kept.
 
Then one day he strolled along,
and saw what I had made,
blooming bunches of burdens,
and he had no idea how they came.
He squinted as I showed him
the colors and petals I arranged
but he did not see what I did.
he saw something that was strange.
One by one he picked them,
weeding out my beautiful mess
because to him this wasn't a garden
it was  dead, and dry, and dreary mess.
And as he cleared the garden,
my mind began to be set free,
and finally I could see things,
that i hadn't been able to see.
My garden was now gone,
a relief I thought i'd never be,
and now I had him with me
to pull me from the garden's weeds.
 
But then one day he left…
with out a word…
with out a last…
the person who had saved me
suddenly left me for the rest…
he killed all my flowers
he destroyed my beautiful mess
he did what he promised not too
 
 
he left. 
 

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