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
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