When I was fifteen
You made a home in my bones
Now every summer flowers
Grow out of my ribs

When I was seventeen a garden
Grew inside of me
I couldn’t breathe
Through the daisies in my lungs
But your eyes were sunlight
I couldn’t live without

I’m twenty now
My flowers have wilted
The garden is overgrown
With weeds
Everything I touch dies
My green thumb is gone

It’s been over two years
Since my garden has had sunlight
I’m beginning to forget
What it felt like
It’s harder to breathe
Through wilted flowers
Than fresh roses
I didn’t think it could be harder
Than when I was seventeen

I am not a gardener
But neither were you
Yet you filled my bones with flowers
Now I don’t know
How to keep them alive
You never left an instruction manual
On how to survive
In the winter