Flower

The healing was worse.
I wanted to be positive like everyone else,
But it was as if someone was ripping my emotions through my chest,
Thousands of times, over and over again.



I have given away pieces of me,
They used to converge in order to make the world.
The eeriness that the flowers would never grow. They used to fill the little shards I broke off for others.
Do I have to ask?