Crushed flowers are beautiful, dried, pressed not useful but certainly nice to look at My sister affectionately called me a 'delicate little flower' one of the many times you made me break down, crushed from false accusation until i eventually dried up pressed myself until the pain no longer hurt. I wondered why i had become such a fragile thing shouldn't heartbreak build you up, a learning experience rather than reducing you to a few petals and a stem. i feel more like a tree green and great during the warm summer months unaware of the freezing winter winds that will blow away all my protective leaves. barren. cold. i hope someday i will become evergreen beautiful, tall, luscious and full- pine or cedar or spruce staying fragrant all year round
but for now i remain a daisy nothing special dried, pressed and crushed between these pages, within these words.