The Hole You Dug

Okay, so this is a very rough draft of an artistic way to convey my emotions about a friend I loved deeply, and how we hurt each other. I'm not particularly fond of this first attempt, but when I get emotional, I tend to write it down in a confusing meddled way to help me process. Sooo here's this shit lmao. Feel free to leave constructive criticism! It's deeply appreciated :D

You entered my garden and cared for my flowers.

You watered every inch, and I had never felt so loved. Even though my thorns would prick you and you’d pick my flowers, the gifts and kisses healed our grievances.

Now, here, in the middle of my garden, I am surrounded by my dying daisies, and beaten beauties. I was so distracted by your loveliness, that I ignored the rusty shovel you had on you. The one you used to dig up my gorgeous gardenias.  

These flowers were but a sacrifice to keep you here. I’d dread the possibility, the day that you would leave me, and I’d be left all alone. So, I dug my thorns into your sides.

And when you tore me up and called it love, I tried to believe it. But the cry of my garden was too loud. You hated me and my fleeting fantastical flowers. You tore and tore, pulled and scorched. Then you dug the hole out. Crawling and scraping through the dirt as I held on. You eased my roots with promises of the future, and excuses that blamed the weeds.

I realized I could not keep you. We were both being destroyed, and we had to grow. I just wish it wasn't apart. I rebuilt, renewed, and grew a little greater.

However, I cannot say I let you go even after you had gone. The hole you dug in my tiny garden was too big to be filled. Days I spend staring at it, hoping you will come back. And we would be reunited. This time, no shovels, and no thorns, and just us. Intertwined in serenity.

- Boomerang :/