While we were innocent and happy

you made me feel like flowers

And I couldn't keep them to myself

So I decided to plant them all over

and make them as beautiful as you made me


With youth comes ignorance

And with ignorance comes pain

In the heat of affection we parted

And my eyes never burned so badly


I found new experiences

Which I hoped would compare

And for a while, it did

But my flowers started to die

The summer heat of this desert had scorched them

All that remains of them is a dry husk 


It was a big mistake

Which I want to forget

It has already ended, yet it still plagues me

My flowers are still dead

Their beauty is no more

Because of an environment they were never meant to thrive in


And yet, one single plant remains

Though thouroughly thrashed when repotted, 

And a bit burnt at the edges

It is bright green amidst the corpses  of the others

It is still just a sprout without flower

The Forget-Me-Not.


It is ironic and bittersweet

We are friends but don't remember why

We are two halves of a whole, but growing into seperate beings

We are left with sweet memories of what was and could have been

I do not want to lose this one too

I do not want to forget

I want them to flower


But if you will ever feel the same...

...that is a different story.

This poem is about: 


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