I uprooted the only thing that I've ever planted.
The blood of its petals falls lighter than my tears.
As if my emotions held no weight.
I know that I must move on.
But the hole of what used to be.
Left in a garden where beauty used to grow.
Feels so painfully empty.
Begging to be filled.
I cry into the hole
Where I know nothing will grow from.
I think to myself if maybe I would've nurtured it more.
But my thoughts feel so pointless.
My words shatter loudly as they fall out of my hands
I can't even cry in silence.
Nov 14, 2020
Nov 14, 2020 at 1:27 PM UTC
I uprooted the only thing that I've ever planted.
The blood of its petals falls lighter than my tears.
As if my emotions held no weight.
I know that I must move on.
But the hole of what used to be.
Left in a garden where beauty used to grow.
Feels so painfully empty.
Begging to be filled.
I cry into the hole
Where I know nothing will grow from.
I think to myself if maybe I would've nurtured it more.
But my thoughts feel so pointless.
My words shatter loudly as they fall out of my hands
I can't even cry in silence.
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