Spilled Tea

Growing A Garden

I begged the rain to go away,
screamed until the rings created by raindrops in the water disappeared.
Until the water
disappeared completely,
thinking a wasteland would make the saltwater burns
and chafe marks
from my drenched clothes
go away.
You were the only one
to accompany me
into the wasteland
that was growing inside my mind.
The wind was still alive
and before the sun burned
too hot and forced your departure, I attempted in resting with you
for a moment.
Salvaging what you had to give with what I had left,
putting it into the works
of a garden before
your imminent leave.
Growing this garden
so that I would have
something left to build on,
even when the sun completely dried out the ground.
I knew that these feelings
I was enduring were stronger
than the power of what
was driving you away.
I knew I would need something
as a reminder that although
the burning hot sun
was driving you away,
pieces of you would always
stay with me.
I begged for too long
for the storms to pass
and asked for more than
both of us could handle, considering the drought
we had been forced into.
But even the burning,
desert-like heat
didn't have enough power
to drive all of you
out of my system.
So I will tend to this garden
grown from the pieces of you
that still stayed,
just as you had promised
all of you would stay once before. For once,
I'll let nature take its course, without interfering.
I won't be afraid
when I see darker clouds,
because I know
they will bring things to aid
the growth of these flowers
inside of me.
This garden will grow
into something beautiful
out of the wreckage
that was once us,
as I hopefully will as well.