I picked dry flowers as my favorite thing
And they called me weird.
I bet they don’t know what’s weird.
Lying to everyone about being okay
when a day has never passed
without me emptying all the water from the sea that lay beneath me.
This is weird.
Gathering all what they see as less valuable
just to comfort myself
that maybe someone will come to me
even though I might be nothing but an empty vessel.
But just as I gathered dry flowers
and loved them,
They might take me
and love me.
I guess this is what is weird
‘Comparing myself with dry flowers, wishing I could be more than dry flowers.’
Nov 19, 2025
Nov 19, 2025 at 2:37 PM UTC
I picked dry flowers as my favorite thing
And they called me weird.
I bet they don’t know what’s weird.
Lying to everyone about being okay
when a day has never passed
without me emptying all the water from the sea that lay beneath me.
This is weird.
Gathering all what they see as less valuable
just to comfort myself
that maybe someone will come to me
even though I might be nothing but an empty vessel.
But just as I gathered dry flowers
and loved them,
They might take me
and love me.
I guess this is what is weird
‘Comparing myself with dry flowers, wishing I could be more than dry flowers.’
These are words I wrote without a second thought.
All exactly what I feel.