The wilting flowers
They whisper my name
At me they aim
Heavy with all the taken blame
Heavy with shame
That doesn’t fit in my frame
Because it isn’t mine to claim
But along with the people it came

The wilting flowers
They call me to the ground
I hear their singing sound
I tell them the stories I’ve found
The world beyond that astounds
how maybe they could’ve drowned
They live through me
Maybe we were bound

The wilting flowers
Falling apart
So heavy, their hearts
I wonder who took away their broken parts

But one distinct not fully gone
Wilting but holds the slightest color not none
Living through me, a running fawn
Watching the sun as it dawns

A wilting flower holding on to my pink flower’s blush
Grown from it’s seed
Infected with it’s thrush
That once held the river’s gush

A wilting flower holds on to me to keep me small
I beg to allow my stem to grow tall
Blossom but you weigh me down I fall

A river couldn’t drown you out
Water just flows through your now hollow spout
Your words too full of doubts
What are we even all about

As long as you’re wilting in this garden I’m forced to as well
I had to go with you when you fell
Now over me you dwell
Never letting me out of your shell