As with all of the big, great losses not very much from here forward is going to be the same I know it won't I do want you to applaud on your way out though despondently, once again the harmonica begins to play.
With the ivy on my house, I had to reconsider what flowers I wanted to add to my garden. I never expected to be gifted a hydrangea sapling that I planted beneath the wall of ivy. I was much more beautiful than I had originally thought, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that the hydrangeas were able to grow and flourish on their own alongside the ivy. The scent of hydrangeas became comforting to me.
Not much later, a patch of ivy crept up the side of my house, right above the garden bed nestled against the outer wall. I didn't worry about it at first, I treated it as an after thought until I noticed that it had eventually covered the whole side of my house. The thick ivy had cast a shadow over my little side garden and my black eyed susans were dying. I tended to them until my knees were bruised and my hands were matted with dirt, but I could not save them. They died. Eventually I grew used to the ivy; I grew to appreciate its unique beauty and held it in fondness, but I would never forget my beloved black eyed susans.
The marigolds had inspired me to add black eyed susans to my garden. Their yellow petals were enticing and their black centers lured me in. There was just something about them that kept me coming back to tend to them, to waste my time in order for them to flourish. The marigolds I had previously planted had died due to my neglect, but I found I didn't miss them much when my attention was focused on the black eyed susans.
“You are worth more than the marigolds” I am assured by my loving mother as a child I believe her because the beauty in everything flow’rs and flourishes when you’re young The world is yours to take, everyone is yours to meet, everything is yours to do; and I believe her.
“You are worth more than the marigolds” My first friend at school proclaims, and I believe them. We’ve tackled ***** training and preschool, now onto the playground and phonics! We run and run together, taking the world like we’ve whispered once before; and I believe them.
“You are worth more than the marigolds” The middle school test scores announce, and I believe them. Primary school is in the past and I’m ready for responsibility! I put on makeup to feel pretty, care about my grades more than the teachers believe and flash my smile to the boys who spit “compliments” at my feet; and I believe them.
“You are worth more than the marigolds” but.. I don’t believe them anymore. I’ve gained just enough confidence to smile at everyone in the halls in case they are having a bad day. Suddenly my youthful euphoric vision is graffitied with hateful words and violence. I run and constantly chase the innocence of the world, being surrounded by darkness. My self esteem has hit an all time low. Why is the world this way? My friends and I chase what we used to believe and end up in deep holes; and I don’t believe them anymore.
“You are worth more than the marigolds” And it doesn’t matter. I have lost all hope of finding that beauty. My heart is an aching mess of “I love you”’s But all I hear is “you are meaningless” Slowly these phrases of deep hate sear into my soul I hear them every day and every night You are meaningless You are not worthy You could not possibly be good enough Until I wake up one dismal morning to realize that I have been defined by the ones around me.
“You are worth more than the marigolds” ..and enough! Because even my friends who say I’m worth something turn around and sneer at others like they can’t too be loved. Because while the world screams “I hate people” I whisper “but I don’t”. But that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things because we’ll find someone who loves us, right? No. Our words between just us mean nothing if we spin around and spit in others’ faces.
And we know we hurt because we’ve been hurt but we don’t stop, none of us stop.
I dream of a world that screams a vulnerable “I love you” out into the world instead of a pulsing “I hate you” And a world that remembers that we are all worthy of love and not only the kind that makes you blush.
“You are worth more than the marigolds” The phrase I’ve heard since I was in my mother’s gentle hold can only mean so much when you think you’re crumpled. Stashed away until you’re needed always feeling so defeated but the truth not told enough to our weakened souls We are all worth more than the marigolds
I had gotten so used to self-hatred That when he called me "Beautiful" I wondered why, Why in the world Would a bee leave Roses, marigolds, sunflowers And choose to be in the mud? "Because YOU," he said, "You are my lotus".