we used to plant marigolds in the garden.
dressed up in my rain boots, bucket hat, your work gloves that slid all the way up past my elbows + a trowel in my hand
i deliberately dug each of their holes
making sure each flower had enough space to grow.
your fingertips danced over the roots,
loosening them from the shape of the plastic box that once contained them.
freeing them.
letting them breathe.
with both hands you so precisely placed the flowers into their new home.
as you held them in place,
i tucked them in with new soil.
kissing each of their blossoms to wish them a life of prosperity.
the reflection of the marigolds in your eyes were like fireworks.
they brought life to your body
as they did mine.
but when your eyes shifted to me
all of that color faded.
everyday we checked on them
making sure that they were safe + flourishing.
it was a ritual that became more + more redundant each day
until a dandelion popped up.
my heart exploded as little blossoms of sunshine sprouted up around the deep maroon + orange flowers we chose.
your heart crumbled.
they were weeds, ruining your sanctuary.
worthless + ruthlessly growing wild.
your docile garden was turning into an amalgam of life.
the light left your eyes when you looked at them
something i recognized all too well.
you wanted a marigold.
something i could never be.
the tame flower that you admire so much
was incomparable to my dandelion soul.
i sprouted up in your garden
consuming it with my heart + spirit.
it was unfamiliar, something you could not control.
something you never wanted.
but it was there
i was there
bringing light + wildness to your home.
met with rage, you destroyed me.
plucked all the blossoms.
eradicated all the roots.
time + time again, you abolished any evidence of regrowth.
you planted more nursery grown flowers
to cover up the genocide of my heart.
i wonder if that was enough for you to forget.
i wonder if you think of me
when you think of the marigolds we used to plant in the garden.
Feb 15, 2022
Feb 15, 2022 at 10:08 AM UTC