Flower
The first time I met you, I knew it was first love. Everyday, you'd pass by and see if I was okay. You were so thoughtful, like I was flower that you'd took care. You were always there in my every growth, you were always there in my little achievements. You were my water, the source of my nutrients. You provided the light that nurtured me. I'd do everything just to make your life beautiful. I'd surround you with all the colors of my petals, and I would never let you smell like any other else except my scent.
Until one day, you came in your most beautiful attire. You held my hand, and I knew that my leaves were perfect for that soft palm. But all of a sudden, you pulled me from my soil, and slowly I felt to die. "Let it be. At least, I'll die in his arms." I told myself. But life was so awful, especially when you handed me to someone, a special girl in your life indeed, and then you told her "I love you."
I died in that very moment. I died because of you.
Copyright © Hansteven Selfa | Year Posted 2016
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