Our love will never be a thing of today or tomorrow, but it will always be there. It exists, and blooms first thing in the morning, but even if you don't find it, it is there. Only, it is asleep, and you wake up, only if it matters.  

Some days, I wake up with a hole in my chest, some days, I wake up with my chest filled with too much, that it hurts beyond words. Do I burst with joy? Burst with ire? Or burst into red dahlias and daffodils?

Because I always hold the watering can with earnest, the grooves of its handle imprinted in my hand, as I water my garden each and every morning. And you don't notice them, the flowers that I make bloom.

You gave me the red dahlias and daffodils, and I always close my eyes at night, thinking one day you will notice.

And I know you won't.

But I go on anyway, with my morning gardening; keeping the soil, cutting what has died, keeping them alive from morning through night, caring  this way always, without self-regard.

This is my way of love.

Plants are patient
Waiting for just the right time to sprout
The slightest misjudgment on their part could mean death
So they will wait as seeds for years
Hiding beneath the tall oaks
Hoping one day they will have the chance to kiss the sun's sweet rays
as their elder's looming above them do
 
Plants are strong
As people massacre them for food or for their flashy reproductive organs
But they will come back
Even though they know they will be cut down again
 
Plants are kind
Giving themselves to help all others
Blooming beautifully for the bees
Cleaning corrupted air
Giving back to the soil when they die
 
Someday
I hope to be like a plant
I hope to be patient in life
Waiting for the right time
I hope to be strong
To grow back even when I know ill be cut down again
I hope to be kind
To give love to everything and everyone

i scrub the thoughts away with water and acid
soap isn't enough so bleach in cuts it's all that should remain
in the damaged figure that has begun to become my body
my heart aches at the sight of blood but it opens me up for more opportunities
chest
school
arms
career
thighs
hobbies
heart
money­
ears
family
eyes
success
lungs
     lungs
          lungs
               lungs
                    lungs
in my body grows the leaves of the others
who have been waiting to be set free
branches bring my lungs to collapse
as my body becomes life for two others
she was a tree
The tree of life

You can water your plants.
You can walk your dog everyday.
You can feed the birds in the park.
But the day that you forget to sustain your plants,
or are too busy to cater to your dogs need for the outdoor experience,
or run out of bird food for the park,
things tend to fall out of balance.
Plants survive,
so do the dogs
and the birds.
They start to believe in an entitlement to your generous acts.
Something I've learned
is that it's not always your job to take care of someone else.
There's always rainstorms,
back doors,
and picnic crumbs
waiting for their turn to take care of someone.

The cadence of the birds
The gentle breeze
The waters and the plants:
They breathe