Dear Gardener

Love Is a drug I don't wanna OD from. The garden grows gloomy after dark.

I have been sitting down,

Down in the corridor where we broke,

And we ended everything we said we'd promised we'd have,

I start to miss you,

But I have to remind me,

That I don't mean anything any longer,

I try music, but the damn play list doesn't make me forget you,

It reminds me of you,

With every melody,

I remember the shatter,

As my heart dropped,

With every beat drop,

I feel my beat drop,

And I can't seem to forget,

You told me I was flowers,

Yet you always said that I prick,

That I made you bleed,

You told me that I was a daisy,

A fresh dandelion,

A chameleon rose sometimes,

Changing colors with the seasons, sometimes the times,

A Lily when I smiled in the warm rain while chilling,

A seasoned Cactus Flower with the praises and showers of love and intuition,

A kind omission,

A flying decision,

Every morning I'm still yawning,

The same conversation still boring, yet lively,

I reread them, trying to find life,

But in that I feel death

My flower grows young,

The times grow old,

I was too happy for you.

I know it takes two to tango,

I know it takes two to perfect,

But I guess I was watering a dead one,

Or rather I was the only one watering,

Roses are dead,

Violets are black,

My perception was naive,

And it darkened after you left.

Whatever prose that is?

The garden grows gloomy after dark.

The aliens fly by after dawn.

The government still sleeps alone,

Stigmatized by depression and time dawned,

The gardener smiles to me as I look up to him,

My stem weak,

My heart bleak.

My passion strong.

"Yesterday I bloomed a new petal," I tell him, trying to smile and let him understand there's not much need for pruning.

But he's not brooding,

Please Dear Gardener,

Don't cut this flower...

But he's stern,

He doesn't give a damn,

The decision concrete.

The abstract desolate.

Life.

Incomplete.

"Yesterday, I felt your touch" I try to tell him,

But he doesn't quite get it.

He sees me as a withering flower

No matter how much I feel he bred life into me,

He's still distant

He's still away,

He's still throwing me among those that are useless.

While I am dying,

And my new petal,

Almost loses its color,

And as I wake up this day,

I go for the eternal flame.

I'll do whatever it takes.

My only wish,

Is for thee to know,

That it isn't your fault

for not loving me like I do,

It's mine,

For loving you,

Despite how much it kills me

My only act,

Is for me to understand,

That it is indeed your fault,

For not loving you like I do,

It's yours,

For not loving me.

Post Tags garden love loss heartbreak