"I'm not made just to look pretty; but I was born for far more beautiful things."
I don't want to be treated like a rose, a sunflower, a daisy, or a flower of any kind - not again.
And I don't want to be nourished by the subtle acts of adoration just to be plucked from earth.
When the cold rush of winter came, it made my colors fade to gray and took my petals away.
After a few months, the spring came but you never stayed long enough to watch my beauty unravel and my colors rebloom.
That's when I realized that you just pluck what's in season and you're not the one who sees value in time.
When I'm done nursing myself, you picked me up and took me home just to be discarded when it rains.
But honestly, all the pain didn't really mattered as long as I get to see you satisfied of the beauty that I possess.
Not until the winter came again and I was all alone watching my reflection on your wine glass in front of the vase where I stood.
At that moment, I knew that the end of me is near as I watched my petals wither one by one.
Now...
I pity myself not because
I will not be able to dance
beautifully with the wind again,
but because I was a fool
for blooming at your touch.