two souls just happen to write poems about the same thing the same day: vibes. planets. here's to flowers and their need.
| He Picked Me A welcome scent A bitter taste An ego sworn and silent Finally grateful My self communion A story of uncertainty and loss A story of confidence and love Hurt rings like a bell Through the delicate hand that holds me I am not the flower you thought But if the look and smell moves you Know that I feel the same To be put to this purpose in your hand To be chosen and cherished by your type I'm glad you unroot me from what I am We all die But I would rather die this beautifully Flowers are rare and yet I have my kind You came across my patch and you felt nice All of them you could bend down to take You chose me to keep and possess my petals safe I'm not sure why so maybe it was chance But that alone is the endless cosmic dance Let not my weakness define me but my strength My confidence and force against the wind The wind of doubt that leaves daisies unsure They rock and rip and never feel fulfilled But a flower is beautiful even when unseen When flower knows herself the gorgeous greens - Valerie Massie | I Pick Me Unfulfilled, I try and rebuild An evaporating heart on a shower curtain The time away, reflects the ways And the things I envisioned Now lost on an imaginary piece of paper Where it once began, could not be blamed Because the bloom was never spoken I wait again, Picking flowers, Searching for petals, That colour me in ways, Where I know longer have to wonder, Whether or not, this love is real. -Jenna Kennedy |
