i've been watering dead plants for so long
i hardly remember what they look like
when they're alive,
and maybe this means i'm
losing my mind,
but the truth is,
we all want a miracle.
i think i've just been
counting too much
on mine.
i wanna believe
that my love & loyalty alone
can turn a withered pile of
prickly dirt into a strong
and stunning cactus,
once again.
i wanna believe
that if i count you every
time i count my blessings,
you'll bless me with your presence,
but it feels a bit like a child's
impossible dream.
i am a dreamer though,
even in a one bedroom apartment
with creaky doors and leaky faucets.
so, i'll continue to do these things
that don't make sense to you.
i'll wish you a happy birthday,
just cause i mean it.
& i'll visit your mom in the hospital,
so she knows she's never alone.
and i'll give money to your friends'
"gofundme" page,
because you know,
i want ryan to get well too.
and i'll pray for your safety,
even though i have no religion.
and i'll sit here,
on my bathroom floor
thinking about dead roses
while you lie with your
face in a pillow
that's forever stained
with the scent of my shampoo.
and i'll hope that you still love that smell
as much as you did when you still loved me.
and i'll hope that your heart isn't
prickly and pathetic.
i'll hope that it's
stunning and strong
like a cactus.
and if they call me crazy,
you can tell them they're right.
but i'd rather be the one who
waters a dead plant,
than be the one who misses
the magic only found
in fallen petals.