I pluck the weeds out of my head every season,
All the bad, the negative thoughts, the unhealthy habits,
so the flowers have room to grow.
Until the next season,
when the weeds regrow and I must pluck them again.
I grab the base, pulling up the roots,
Without roots, they won’t grow back.
They do.

i went to the market today
i bought myself a fresh bundle
not of your favourites, but of mine
of yellow and blue with green stems

tonight i will fill the mason jar fresh
with water and petals floating alongside
and i will watch as the petals drop
one by one i save them, dried

tomorrow i will go to the market
i will walk to the water and smile
i will skip rocks on the shore
and watch the waves stretch out for miles

i will keep those petals in a jar
those of green and yellow and blue
i will remember their place on my shelf
i will always remember you

i'll forget the memories i made with you
love will fade little by little
but
i haven't told you yet the name of the flower
when you asked me to identify from the bouquet
you brought on our very first date

i know that if there's life there's death
its up to us how we live in between
i spend my days having coffee with you
and yours to watch movies with me
flowers grow from the seeds then it withers in time

don't forget me i said
i hurt myself and cried more
i wish I was the one who'd say to 'forget me
Because honestly I can't say 'don't let me go
Forget-me-not
but
i will keep on living positively from now on

you don't have to say 'thank you to me
because i feel the same with you
but
i wish you didn't told me to 'forget you
please 'don't let me go
Forget-me-not


i'll forget the memories i made with you
love will fade little by little
i'll keep on living positively
Forget-me-not

rose and sunny blossoms
beckon the beauty of spring.
baby blue skies whisper
winds experiencing what it brings.

growing grasses wander
into the roots of the lime green land.
fields and fields of flying flowers
picture this beauty so far and so grand.

hills of living loveliness
lavish a splendid surprise.
exquisite adventures
marvel and awaken your eyes.

underneath the covers, no worries of lovers
too busy focused on the uncovering of all my budding flowers
of all my seeds sproutings, if spirit is allowing
springtime is my favourite, it's a fresh start
to be better and bigger than before
to pick yourself up and wish for more
so I will wish for more, more than men who are decor
so I wish to explore, a man not plagued with internal wars
one that is not afraid to see what lies behind the door
one that is not afraid to let their heart pour

When I planted those flowers
And grew them for you
I never thought of what you’d do
Perennials they were, with gorgeous hues
But you took them and cut them out of the blue
Stuck them in a vase for everyone to see
Watered them lightly until they wilted
And want faded away

Those flowers
To me
We’re me and you
The love that we grew
Cherished and knew
And at the first sign of beauty
You snatched them right up
New blossoms could not bloom
For you came in on cue

Withered and wrinkled
Discarded and dry
Colors all lost
Beauty long squashed
We were flowers in bloom
And we will bloom again
But the ugly remainder
Of what was and will be
Will always lay there

In the trash

I'm wearing flowers,

coarse, prickly, it doesn't matter --


I want to bleed them.

I am a flower
growing in the way of a footpath,
from a crack in the pavement,
dog ***, human feet shuffling,
bicycle tire spinning

I am a sunflower, glowing
in the morning light.
through sparkling mist,
which sits beside me, feeding
me sweet nothings and soft
droplets.

I am a wild rose,
my thorns are sharp, my
petals are delicate.
My roots reaching,
so deep into the earth,
yet the water has evaporated,
even in those depths, my roots are
cracking,
my hips are drying out.

I am a flower in the middle of a footpath,
I have been trampled and I have
been peed on and biked over.
I am trying to stand up again.
I am trying to stand up again.

I see faces and flowers
on loose pages—
it smiles at me from
a crumpled paper, addressed
to the fire, its embers were
keeping it ablaze.

How happy it was to paint the
room blue in the middle of summer,
dancing through the sound of the creaks
under my footsteps— everything is just right.

How treacherous it was, a wistful memory
they were remnants of unsettled stories
and unforgiven departures; I stood
on a shipwreck
where everything is a lost.
the uncertainty would be tall
and I am more will for the fall,
are these things crosses your mind?
I wouldn't bear crossing out your name.

This is how we paint room blue; creeping
on the cracks of the floor, memorizing your
gaits as I follow your traces.