These goodbyes are getting easier
I’m uprooting my grounds, removing attachments.
But these roots run deep, their embedded at the core.
Your essence unintentional and I’d leave you be to grow freely but you weren’t met for this garden.
You don’t blend with my soil, you spoil the harvest, and delay the blooming.
I’ve been fiddling with the scissors but you tangle at the heart.
This flower is too important.
This flower is too kind.
Too present.
Too vulnerable.
But the surface was too sensitive..
So I held on to you.
Fed you
Nurtured you
But I can’t do that anymore..
This flower comes first, my flower comes first, and I don’t have long to blossom.
Times ticking, climates changing..
I can’t fight for the both of us.
Brielle K. D.
