Don’t gift me flowers

They suffocate me

For they remind me of things

I am supposed to forget

for instance It reminds me of me

Its perfection in ribbons tells me things like

 flowers were born not to bloom free

but to be gifted to others

to be crafted to perfection

Maybe thorns and mud were not a part of them

as if they were  not born to enhance the garden

not to fill in the missing part

but to stay in the living room

in a vase

with just ENOUGH sunlight

and Just enough water

maybe humans would press her in a book

to see her beauty after death

to give her their idea of infinity

but what is the beauty of a flower

if she cannot kiss and become one with the soil after death

if she does not inspire another flower

what is the grace in being replaced?

a flower blooms to bloom

not to remind someone else that she is a flower

she blooms because she can

and when she dies with dignity

slowly with time

leaving her mark

living her moments

she makes other flowers aware she was here

not when she is cut naked without leaves to compliment another being


that is not when she lives

she lives when she is left to be

Don’t gift me flowers

they depress me

plant  white and purple lilies in my garden instead

she is the perfect combination of

beauty,freedom,grace and fragile

for she will refuse to bloom for you

she will bloom for herself

with just enough water,light,dark and soul

she will bloom,like how a flower is to bloom

without the fear of being gifted

but with the liberty and freedom of being raw and wild

yet graceful and decent

in places

she is not supposed to bloom