Gardenia girls are never safe,
a secret love you can’t replace.

Bitter pit stuck in her chest,
dragging skin with nails of grace.

All her fears were once at bay,
now creeping from a darker place.

Her secret garden wrecked and wrought,
briny gems, each other chase.

“It’s not enough.” she tells the birds.
the flowers grieve with down turned face.

“There’s nothing we can do.” they say.
It’s fate, but we will miss your trace,

your breathing space,

and

your

embrace.