The intimacy of being understood.

The Intimacy of being understood 

Buried in a garden, the soil dark and harsh as the bitter sun bites me to dust.

And so, I will forever linger for a new place to rest 

To call home In places I should have never stopped 

Leaving bits of vulnerability, a bit of me

But Time was a very funny thing

Nothing seemed to change but then suddenly everything was different 

I wanted to scream so bright even sun flowers turned away 

Now No matter how I word it, not even the flowers will understand how it felt

To be loved and betrayed in the same moments by the same touch.

-how to digress from a garden to a single flower