The Flowers In Your Garden

Love. A feeling we are all capable of. We all need. As humans, we have this constant urge to surround ourselves with love. I never had that urge. Maybe I should rephrase that. I never had that opportunity. So I never wanted love. From family. From friends. Too busy on the run, from one town to the next. Never getting the chance to find love. This story isn't just a love story, if that's what you were expecting. It's not even a story. It's a wound. A wound that starts off open but becomes so much more than an open wound. It becomes a wound that's been salted and mutilated. A wound that couldn't be stitched, but needed to be accepted. This is my way of accepting it, now I'm making my first step. Opening the wound.