In truth there’s always so much to say and so little that truly gets across. There’s so much hypocrisy in the words told by your closest friend and there’s the uprooting of trees that have been planted years ago when the youth is just youth. The flowers will not bloom under skies full of clouds and sleet for that is what your heart is full of. Where is the nutrition that once made me feel alive and that fed me until I was fulfilled?
You scamper around and frolic around while I’m away, but no more. This situation has sufficed in causing the blooms in my heart to forever close and wither. The butterflies once in my stomach have broken wings and no longer fly. I do not need the tremors that come with a friendship that is as empty as yours. In retrospect your introspection has always been some sort of demise of divine intervention and I can no longer uphold the laws of your land, which is beaten and battered down to deserts where no flowers seem to grow.
They say desert flowers are the most rare, but most beautiful of all. All that I feel is a heavy weight on my shoulders where flowers used to provide a fragrance. I’m done with your mocking tones of fake love and empty fountains. For you my heart has closed its doors, so find a window to jump through.
The hilarity of the situation is that I should know better. A turning wheel can only turn two ways, but it never breaks the cycle. My heartbeats will no longer be rockets that reach into the sky with a fury so uncontainable that I cause myself harm. Never again will you be the person for me. Selfishness and cowardice are not what I am in search of. I simply seek what every human should receive.