like a flower bud, i was little.
i did not know my left from my right.like a flower bud, i was innocent.
it was too bad that was his favourite flavour.like a flower, i blossomed.
i did not allow my past to define me.like a flower, i was light.
it was too bad he still enjoyed my nectar.like a small fruit, i was beautiful.
but my insides were naught.like a fruit, i was heavy.
i carried all he did inside me.like a mature fruit, i fell.
was it too bad he got tired of me?like an overripe fruit, i was bitter.
i was tired.like a rotten fruit, i was thrown away.
he was a monster.like a rotten fruit, i was buried.
to be used as manure for his next bud to grow.⚘--𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖘𝖕𝖆𝖈𝖊--ღ
the story behind this one is dark. think you can guess it?
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bittersweet
Non-Fiction"life is our own bittersweet experience, weaved together to form us. there is always something to be sad about, but there is always something to be happy about. death is bittersweet too - you are leaving everything behind, and embracing the afterlif...