The exquisite carnation blossoms through the thorns surrounding.
"The Flower of God,"
A woman's love.
Garden of beauty she soars,
High up in the branched cluster of pure love.
Hours of full care;
Sun shined bright, happiness it shall bring.
Handling, proper as can be,
For one shall break.
Decay, I become, manhandled and overworked.
Broken Earth she grows,
From the roots so deep.
Take a breath, I breath;
For I grow from a twilight sleep.
Rooted in the dirt beneath,
Buried deep through the Earth
In a beauty of love and disaster.
A flower with hope,
For the love of a man.
Where rain became a necessity
And a heart filled with grace.
His pure hands ran through the flowers in her hair.
Tangled and chaotic,
He wrapped his roots around her lungs,
A beautiful put together mess.
A carnation that had not felt beautiful in the hands of another,
Grew to be admirable in the eyes of others.
For she grew through the rain and the dirt,
A beautiful chaotic mess I became.
Waiting for him to pick me up,
I gave up.
Gave up on waiting.
I grew my own garden,
Becoming wild and free.
I was free at last,
Realizing I don't need a man to carry me.
I opened my eyes,
Looked to the girls in need of advice.
Spoke the words,
"Don't wait, independence is key. Look around, a flower you see.
Stop and admire her beauty."
-Thank you, my love