There is a poem saying:
"If you love a flower,
don't pick it up.
Because if you pick it up,
it dies,
and it ceases to be what you love.
So if you love a flower,
let it be.
Love is not about possession.
It is about appreciation."
-OSHO (1931-1990)
But you know what?
You loved me.
and you picked me up
and showed me a world
outside of the dirt
that I was always trapped in.
unable to leave from all my sadness.
You showed me that there was so much
more to life.
That I could actually be happy.
then it started dying
and if you really planned on hurting me this much then why did you
fucking pick me up in the first place,
because I'm dying now,
I can't breathe.
I gave you everything I could
and it still wasn't enough.
My petals fell off when you deflowered me.
and you went to go pick in another field.
One with more of a selection
with roses, and daisies,
tulips.
Flowers that with my wilted petals from you
couldn't possibly compete with
and now I'm back where
I guess I belong,
In the dirt.
Alone.
Dying.
Dying and giving myself to the Earth
that will disperse me to help others grow;
its always about the others.
Why couldn't you have just admired me,
not picked me up,
and shown me the world..
because I can't handle all this information
now that I can't enjoy it with you
and you don't even notice
and you don't even care.
While you're looking at the other gardens
I'm already in the ground
dead
because I was just a pretty flower
to pick up
and when I die
there are always other flowers.
