Flowers For My Mother

The gardens of my youth have become overgrown

With dandelions and nettles.

We used to tame these weeds to clear our minds.

When I told you that they were just as beautiful

As our blossoming flowers,

You told me that I was like a daisy,

Innocent and hopeful.

Now these memories are just

Forget-me-nots of you.

I try to nurture your features,

The sound of your voice,

But I only have poisonous memories as a fertilizer.

I can’t think of the color of the roses in your cheeks

Because you left me nine years ago,

With nothing but a bouquet of azaleas,

Wishes of good faith

That have turned to deceitful snapdragons.

You replaced the day lilies and primroses

Of my childhood love

With needles and pipes.

Poppies run rampant in your veins,

Yet, I still wish for you.

Dreams of you fill my lavender sky dreams

But the petals of the zinnias we planted

Wilt with each passing year.

Forget-me-nots conjure

Memories of the ring on your finger

Cutting into my lip like thorns.

Blood spilled,

The color of the roses I wish you would gift to me.

You let him trample my white rosebuds.

You watched him steal my innocent daisies.

So why do I yearn for your affection

And your daffodils?

I should be planting yellow carnations

In your memory.

But I can only think of honeysuckles

When I hear your name.

When the vines of your abandonment crowd my mind,

It makes it difficult for daffodils to grow.

So, for the last nine years,

I have banned forget-me-nots, tiger lillies, and honkeysuckles

From my gardens.

Because, even as I have been

Shipped from gardens to flower pots

That will never truly feel like home,

Your weeds stay with me.

Today, I am ripping out the marigolds

That you have grown in the garden of my mind,

And planting sweet peas in your honor.

Because I know the only flowers you look forward to picking

Are narcissus blossoms.

Even when I was your daisy,

You were my bleeding heart,

A tragedy that poisoned me.

Now, I am becoming my own antidote.

I have learned that forget-me-nots are useless

To those that have already been forgotten.

I have forgiven myself for the hatred

That has grow inside of me with your name as its fertilizer.

Now, I am able to plant daffodils to remind me of the life I will live without you,

White carnations to remind me of the strength your burden has given me,

And heather to remind me that dreams do come true.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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