i used to think
i was special
because i thought
i was the flower you picked
until i realized
you were watering the entire garden

i am more
more than an opened text
compared to your ex
leftover flowers
stepped on to impress
my heart
flourishes without your care
my plants will still grow
when you're not there
to watch over
i should've the **** was
still growing but i kept it
and hid it out of the knowing
of the damage it's caused
instead of cutting it
from my roots
because i wanted it to
blossom
some petals are withered
but i will keep growing
without you

how foolish are we
to think we've written
all of the words felt or sung
living between
the stage of life and death
through poems on pages
written battles lost and won

if you write
the more you live
i intend to write novels
but my words
won't always be
enough
to fill the paper lines
you try to read
in between
my bleeding pen
will run out
but i will not

your body is a garden
and your mind needs water
for your roots to go
but not giving them time
to rest
is like cutting them off while
you water them
self-love isn't bending
till your stem breaks
or hurting yourself
to cover others from the sun
it's embracing the rain
things you can't change
letting go of the waste
that's stopping you from
growing
bloom at your own pace
because the seeds
that stay in the storm
can grow in any place

forgive those who wrong you
          especially yourself

i'm full to the brim
of insecurity
from the words
that you fed me
tip me over
i'll spill
it might burn
but i'm left half empty
pour me out
of the lie
that i need you
to be full

i may be a teacup running low
but i am whole