While I was busy planting flowers for others
I neglected to remain attentive to the vibrant petals that began to sprout between my toes.

They tell me I am deserving of their beauty
They are remarkable
I ignore the petunia's persistence and decline their invitation to take root among my insides
"You have planted so many of us for others,"
They sigh
"Let us remain planted here
For you
For once"
They remind me how I am capable of giving
Incapable of receiving
Incapable of receiving
Incapable of receiving

It is not until years later when I have planted so many wildflowers for others that there is but a thin line between their tips and the sun
They have grown so tall I am covered in shade
I stare down at my toes
The gaps between them are empty
No more seeds left
No more seeds left