dead flower

The seed has sprouted, I allowed it to take root
Being together even when we are apart. You are with me
Sitting in silence with you next to me. You are with me
Laughing at something or another we see. You are with me
Holding you close in the evening and softly in the morning. You are with me

A beautiful flower balances with the water and the earth.

The fractious divide begins as a hairline. You are drifting.
Your voice is different, your eyes are different. You are drifting.
Plotting and preparing to avoid or accept fate. You are drifting.

A yellow edge appears on the large leaf, all at once I realize the petals are dry.

I see all of it now, you have said the words, they can't be unsaid. The end
Attempting to uproot the former flower from my mind. The end?
Reclassifying my memories as weeds by way of accepting it. The end!

Yellow becomes crumbled brown, the wind had taken all but the stem

Feeling you here even though we are apart. You are with him
Sitting in silence alone in the park. You are with him
Suffering the memory of something or another we saw. You are with him
Holding my head in my hands, I know those poisonous pains in my stomach.

It has died

The remnant of roots of yourself that I allowed you to plant lurch for water.
The slow suffering, dying of thirst, but they won't die fast enough.
Like a stain on my brain a residue of you remains afterward,

I see it when I use your expressions.
I see it when I see your name.
I see it when I see you in everything you touched.
I see it when I think about how great it was to have everything I wanted.
The stain. The rotting.

Moving along. A fresh breeze over my stomach and through my hair.
Opening my eyes. The wind blows away the dried up leaves but not the stem of you.
Guarded. I won't trade the dried up flower for anything, it hangs on my wall.
Content. Searching for new seeds in the wind.