She's blooming

She clings to me; like a button on my plaid shirt.
Sewn in strategically.
Gradually withering away in her fibers
But holding on for the life of her.
My hands are soaked in sweat but I cant interrupt her steady breath.
Because her peace means more than my comfort.
And her happiness grows from my soil.
She's blooming.

This poem is about: 
My family
Our world



Beautifully crafted.

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