I am the plant and you are the gardener
My leaves are limp
I try to stretch towards the sky with all my might but the little water you bestowed upon me to help me grow was almost like gasoline meant to **** my vibrant dance
I am the little girl and you are the father
I sat on your shoulders to know what it was like to stand tall
I asked you to walk slower so i could follow your footsteps
As i skipped, and walked, and hiked far behind I never felt your hand reach for mine to pull me by your side
My garden was large my soil was gold
But the seeds you used to plant for me broke in the palm of your hand
Whenever you felt the need to prove you were the man
With every purse of your lip, with every vein in your temple, the fire in your voice as you pricked at my flaws ripped my leaves, they crumbled and fell
Now I'm the woman and they are the man
I use them as the fountain to seek the water you didn't drip
I use their puddle as a mirror to process my own reflection
I search the hug you never stretched to give
I long for the feeling that my branches are not too much to carry

I am a heart searching for a pulse
The courage to look a man in the eye and not be blinded by fear
The will to give my soul to another and not feel triggered to retreat
The strength to embrace the soil on my feet, find my stance firm on the ground
Be head to head, chest to chest with a man I see
And whisper unapologetically, "*******, this is me"

You were the gardener that didn't water my seeds
I am the woman who will nurture my leaves