Lost

Flowers In My Pocket (Collaboration with S.T.)

I have a garden

Sitting in the front of my house.

In it is an array of flowers,

Giving the impression of life

In an area that seems completely devoid of any.

Sometimes I pick them in the morning,

A process so careful and detailed,

And go throughout my day with

Flowers in my pocket.

The day I met you

Something in me began to bloom.

It has only grown since then,

And now sits with me

As the flowers do.

These feelings I have for you

Have grown as meticulous

As my process for picking those flowers from my garden.

Charming and delightful,

Radiant and exquisite.

Everything that I wanted to mean to you,

But the more I pushed and pulled,

The more I broke

Like the stems of the flowers I applied too much pressure to.

I imagined loving you to be as delicate as the petals of a tulip,

But also as strong and beautiful as

Sunflowers in the spring.

When you would give me those captivating glances

I could feel in every part of myself

That I wanted you.

You do to me what the autumn does to the trees.

You strip me down

To my most basic form,

And leave me wanting more,

Needing more.

You are the light I need to bloom.

You cause me to open up,

Grow to my fullest potential,

Wilt and rot into nothing,

Then repeat the process over again.

The need I have of you is unreal.

You are like the oxygen I intake with every breath.

No escape from the things you do to me.

You fill me up and provide me with life.

Making my feelings grow,

Like the flowers in my garden.

And like the flowers in my garden,

I pick those feelings up and place them in my pocket.

                                                                                                            -J.M. & S.T.