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The mourning of a wilted flower

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How do you tell someone that they taught you to look at a seed and see a flower?

I don't think I can ever really tell you how much you meant to me. What strength you gave me wether intentionally or not. How deeply you sunk your roots into my soul or how it burnedwhen your ripped them back up.

You've moved on. Left me behind in search for a softer touch.

And now, you are blooming in another man's garden and I feel like i'm the only one who got their hands dirty. I planted you with stability and you left me once my duties were fulfilled. When he bites into your roots he will taste my rainwater and think it's your own. When he strips you naked, he will pause between every layer of clothing and say how beautiful.

How beautiful is the skin I kept from wilting. He will not know the colors I mixed to turn you pink, rather appreciate the end result. He doesn't know how you came to be. How you grew to be who you are. But he will love you more than I ever could

I hope you're happy.

I hope he makes you happy.

I hope he treats you better than I did. Because although you didn't wilt I starved you of the sun. Kept you trapped in a flower pot labeled with your name.

Your roots spread in new earth. Rich and dark.

Enjoy the warmth Keiji. I know it won't last forever. If he breaks your heart don't come running back to me.

The blind can't lead the blind.

And I can't heal your broken heart.

Stretch out to the sun, spread your fingers wide and soak it in. Soak in everything you have. You won't want to forget it. The love you feel. The warmth that engulfs you. The friends you've made. As the seasons change the plants begin to die. Friends drift apart, warmth turns freezing, and love becomes an empty heart.

Don't look to me to fill it.

Goodbye Keiji.


It's been two months since I left him. I was scared to overstay my welcome. Scared to plant my roots too deep, my mind too trusting. It had been two months before I began to wilt.

Splotches of purple tainted white petals.

I was being abused.

He hit me. A lot. He hit me over and over again until I couldn't breath or move or do anything. I'd crawl into bed and an hour or so later he'd crawl in with me. Whispering 'I'm sorry, it won't happen again,' and 'please forgive me'.

I always did.

I ignored pitying stares and concerned questioning. I ignored it all. It's better to pretened it doesn't exist than to face the reality that Koutarou was right.

But you've moved on in search for a more fragrant flower.

Someone who can love you back.

I want that to be me. You have no idea how badly I want to squeeze you tight and plant kisses on your cheeks until pink hues dance atop them .

When it hurts to badly or it feels like I can no longer breath I remember the sound of you singing far too early in the morning.

And tell myself to suck it up.

Pretty soon I find myself replacing my vocabulary with his. Finding thoughts in my head forecfully shoved there, and now I can't tell his from mine.

He loves you.

He's the only one who will love you now.

Koutarou has found someone better by now.

Move on and except what you have.

Forget what you had with him.

Come on just-

Dear god, I want it back. I want to find my own thoughts. I want to dress how I like. I want to eat whatever I want. I want to do whatever I please.

I want to be free.


'I'm sorry, it won't happen again, please forgive me'

'It's fine'

It's not