I put dead flowers behind my ears because it’s what I did when I was a little girl. I saw myself through the eyes of the boys I longed to impress, to see me as more than just a child.

So I put dead flowers behind my ears.

I didn’t do it for them, I liked to see them seeing me. I knew what I wanted to portray. I don’t think they ever noticed, possibly just dismissed it as odd, the girl who plucked flowers and killed them to steal their colors.

But I always felt hellbent on taking nature for myself. To be part of it, out of this world but still in it. A girl in bloom.

Wishing for a boy to notice that thought. Wishing for him to be the first to pick up a flower and put it behind my ears.

Wishing to be seen. To have a mind shared, without the need for words.