Weeds

My life has always been a series of petals
changing, falling, picked away
forget me not
forget me not
I have thin roots in order to pretend they don't grow deep
this world has too many gardeners, too many pickers, too many broken stems
so I grew thorns
I couldn't grow tall, so I grew strong
I learned to be a crimson red, to bare my soul but hide my heart
I am my own garden
my own rain
my own weed
But we were a yellow flower chain friendship
and I let myself be picked
but only because I picked you
a garden of two flowers, wildflowers in bloom
Blue bonnets, yellow daisies and outstretched roots to 
catch the world in our giggles, dreams and aspirations
we could see the blue skies and we knew we could grow there
with our rain
our soil
The Sun shining through our different clouds
When the storms came, we poured out our raindrops together
we'd lived through thunder before
no fair flower friendships
no wilted roses here
young, vibrant, strong, thick stems and bright hearts
But I admit, I lost a thorn
I can't be a warrior rose, all the time
that's why I had you
to keep the weeds inside me out
 But when I watched you uprooted, potted and taken away
the storm drowned out my voice
The lightening  was  too quick, too bright, too strong
You took my thorn with you
and you've left me in my garden
next to the dirt impression of where you used to be
scattered soil and unsaid words
I told you I was a gypsy
that I sometimes brush people off my aprons like crumbs
not because I don't care, but because I do my traveling in the wintertime
But I promised that that would never be you
 and I am a bird that never could build the right nest, always searching
a de-thorned rose face
A child with with a rosy complexion and a story she never told
 But who told you flowers don't have hearts?
They lied.
I guess,we were just just two flower girls
who got swallowed up by the weeds