serendipity

seven petals

seven petals

project in to the mind of a ten year old boy
that crying makes him any less of a man
shame him for his tears,
so he locks himself in his room
to hide the beautiful springs gushing out off
his eyes which merely prove 
he really is afterall, human

six petals

broken just like his father's promise
(his father promised never to hurt him but that night, no one could stop him from yelling hurtful profanities at his fifteen year old son. his mother often
excused his father's behavior by saying,
"he's just drunk"
but mother, aren't a drunk man's words a sober man's thoughts?)

five petals

instead of crying
he used those tears as ink
and painted years of hidden emotions
on an empty canvas
what he did was dangerously breathtaking
because he captured the heart
and then broke it to pieces
(but i was at comfort because i knew he would never leave my heart broken)

but they burned his paintings to the ground

four petals

he had beautiful hands
hands desperate to create art
hands that weren't meant for long days at the office 
hands that weren't meant for writing reports
hands which had colours flying from its fingertips
deceiving hands which looked secure but could suffocate you from the stories they told

three petals

it was rainy sunday evening
when i first met him
(he was wearing a smile and i wasn't wearing a coat. he asked me out for a coffee and i returned home wearing a smile and a coat)
it took us months to open up to each other
and while i choked up hearing his stories
he didn't shed a tear
maybe the first time i saw him cry
was when i told him
i was hopelessly in love with him
it was raining but
i'm sure the tears weren't because of the raindrops

two petals

i don't remember a lot
but i do remember
the first time he hit our son
he was overwhelmed by regret the second he did it
i still see the guilt in his eyes
that day, he got down on his knees begging for forgiveness
he cried till his eyes wouldn't allow it
he never hurt them after that
often he compares himself to his father
i disagree
i couldn't imagine a better father for my children

one petal

i want to grow old together
i want to share rainbows and sunsets with him
i want to sing to him while he paints on our porch
(and complains about how terrible my voice is but that just makes it less romantic)
he was a broken flower
with his petals falling off
but he was my broken flower
and for as long as i lived
i would help him bloom just as he helped me

- i am holding his last petal

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this took me ages to write omg i hope you guys enjoyed it.

if yes then it would mean so much to me if you voted and please don't forget to drop a comment because reading all the comments makes me happy.

love love love - s