Poetry

Dead Flowers.

I'm tired of watering all these flowers.
They always die.
Maybe it's the soil.
Maybe it's the earth.
Maybe it's me.
If I can't take care of a flower, how can I take care of myself?
Maybe it explains everything.
Maybe it explains nothing.
I keep watering dead flowers.
Dead friendships, dead flowers.
Dead relationships, dead flowers.
I plant new ones but they die.
They always die.
So I stopped.
I waited by the garden.
Garden of the dead flowers.
Everything I grow is dead.
There's nothing alive in this house.
Not even me.