Praise for the Sunflower

Sunflower

Oh, how beautiful you are!
Look at you;
see how grand you’ve become!
From your darkness came this light;
from your dark seeds of pain,
piercing, heart-wrenching pain,
came these beautiful, bright petals,
such awe-striking sight!
I want to lose myself in you;

you are the clearest, sweetest dream.
I want to find myself in you,
your royal highness,
Queen of Wands.

I adore you!

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I Still Love You

withering sunflower

My darling sunflower,
you’ll always be my flower,
with or without the sun.

Flaw-Her

Flaw /flô/
Verb
meaning: (of an imperfection) mar, weaken, or invalidate (something)

It must be very hard to be a flower;
I know it, my darling.
You want to be adored very much,
touched,
selected,
plucked,
but all that comes with fear-
fear of maltreatment and neglect
and decay and death.

The Hands, the Vase and the Flower

If you ever think you were wrong,
you’re right.
If you ever think you did bad,
you’re doing good.
When you broke the flower vase,
you had to take care of your cuts,
but you have quickly forgotten
that my home was shattered too.

A dead flower needed her vase.
A dead flower would begin to decay soon.
A red flower died because of you.
A red flower died because she loved you.

 


You let someone hold you, and because of their carelessness, or because they’re just tired of how heavy you can be sometimes, or for “no” reason, they drop you. Your heart’s broken. Your vase is destroyed, shattered into many pieces that you can’t possibly put back together on your own.
They say “oh! I was cut! She’s in the wrong and I’m innocent.”
Well, what about the poor flower? What about this poor flower? You got cut. Yes. You got cut but I died. Sorry to you but adieu to me. I don’t bleed, I’m a flower, but I can get very badly hurt too.
Also, I’ve not been resting in perfect peace; I’ve not even been resting in one piece.