Oh, how it grips the heart with no signs of letting go.
It entertains the idea of growing roots,
daring you to try and maintain its vines.
Struggle if you must,
if you truly fear the mere thought of emotion.
If you truly fear seeds being planted inside your soul,
If you fear those seeds sprouting into thick vines that wrap you up and continue to grow until they are the only thing your senses will ever know.
You panic and try to suffocate the life source of the foliage, deny it its right to take up residence inside you.
Alas, the vines continue to grow.
Seeds are planted inside your being without your consent and thrive no matter how much you wished they wouldn't grow, no matter how much you will them to die.
You must acknowledge your garden.
You must!
For, if you neglect it, the flowers inside you won't die but will remain exactly as they are, stuck in an adolescent stage.
Forever taunted by the closeness of seemingly unattainable maturity.
Disregard your garden and your flowers won't grow,
some may never bloom.
Enrich your garden!
Their fate, as is yours, is entirely up to you.
