Bud upon bud of flowers, roses, and I
can only wander, can only rake
my hands along the thorns, my heart
heavy within me,
a reddening of flesh
dripping of blood, the physical pain matching
what I feel on the inside
When I walked here before, the garden
her beauty matched what was inside
Some things change while the plants
stay just the same
No one broke their hearts
None caused them to give up on becoming beautiful, believing
that everything would be good
It catches my eye, on the ground, a weed
cowering in a place where he doesn’t belong
Bending, I prepare to tear him from the ground, but he
I identify too well
trying to make a life in hard times
I cannot tear him from this home he has found, this life
he is trying to make for himself
I look to the roses and I understand, for they
don’t want someone taking nutrients from their ground
“You will be okay,” I whisper
to the roses
to the weed on the ground
And maybe that whisper can be meant, today
even for me and my heart