Garden of evil.

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Do you know what I did for you?
Every single day,
I placed a flower in your hands.

Not just flower- a piece of me,
torn from my very chest, a proof that
my love for you is real.

I think of you more than myself.
I thought… if I built you a garden,
you would finally see me.

That maybe love, if I watered it daily,
I could make you stay.

But your pride-it was colder than any winter.
Walked through what I grew,
as if it was nothing but weed.

You never once looked at the hands
that bled for you.

It wasn’t the flowers that withered-
It was me.

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