She was weary and wilting and starting

To droop 

All the chicken soup 

In the world 

Could not breathe Into me 

New life 

I try to act like my petals aren’t torn and


I’m listening to things that make me laugh 

Because it’s better 

to have tears of ecstasy then tears of sorrow 

I find no matter how I wilt 

I always bloom again tomorrow.

Leave a Reply