flowers

There was a garden of beautiful flowers, he spent time counting the petals of each one for hours.
He was scouring for his next potential victim, he determined that by using an entire system.
The flower he picked had to be perfect, yet none of them were, what did he expect?
He came across this beautifully elegant, yet simple, rose. “Close enough to my expectations, I suppose.”
He picked the rose and noticed how well she fit in his hand. He wiped off his jeans and went to stand.
The rose was proud she was picked amongst the other flowers, nobody could’ve been prepared though for the upcoming showers.
Everything was great for the first 2 days, the rose was getting the attention she craved. If only she had been aware of what was happening, she could’ve been saved.
Over the next few days, one by one, the rose began to lose petals. She was confused and started feeling unsettled.
The rose was neglected and continued to die with each passing day. She felt ugly and wished to be taken off of display.
Soon every other flower in the garden were full of life and more beautiful than the rose. She could only look on from the window of the house out into the garden, continuing to decompose.
One day, she noticed he was outside, eyeing the other flowers with desire. The rose was upset, she felt like she was on fire, he was such a liar, “try her,” she thought.
One morning another flower was put in a vase and placed on the same windowsill as the rose. The rose adverted her eyes, unwilling to see her replacement; what he chose.
She thought what they had was special, after all she was the most beautiful flower. Her mood had turned sour and she couldn’t help but glower.
The rose couldn’t understand what she had done to make him change his mind, it couldn’t have been because of the way she was designed.
Living in his environment is what was killing her, things were not the same as they were. Everything appeared as a blur.
Next thing she knew the water was gone from her vase, she was suffocating, it was a bad case.
The last of her soul was crushed when she was tossed in the trash. She hadn’t done anything wrong, it was all over in a flash.
The rose knew better for next time, it would come back stronger and reach its prime.
He had picked his favorite flower, knowing that he’d only suck the life out of it. It didn’t bother him one bit. He will never quit, never admit to his actions. He’s using his flowers as constant distractions.
The rose has grown back doubled in size, richer in color, and very little like how she grew the first time. She evolved and being this happy felt like a crime.
The rose continues to flourish to this day, throughout this beautiful month of May.

And I’ve got to say, I wouldn’t have it any other way.