🫧mold🫧

I've always been impatient

from when I was 8 years old forcing my hatchimal out of it's egg, peeling the shell back far before it was ready.

I think that's symbolic,

in a way.

translatable to now, in my relationship, forcing my partner out of his shell far before he's ready.

my hatchimal came out weird, as it was supposed to take longer to hatch.

and my relationship came out weird, having areas that were rushed far before what would be expected.

having to learn, and then unlearn, and then relearn trust, and who my partner is.

my heart is so full of you

I don't think I could call it mine anymore

your laugh and smile echo and bounce around in the missing space when you're not here

your freckles, like stars that light the room and make solitude, a little less lonely

your interests adorn the room in my heart, action figures flood the walls

the blue found in your eyes, a wallpaper.

it's comfortable and warm

my home not a room with 4 walls

but secretly I do like candy

I just happen to like the smile on his face more

the way his eyes light up from a simple sucker, or hi-chew

I tell him he's doing me a favor

that I wouldn't eat it anyways

when I'm lying through my teeth

but candy makes my teeth hurt, and his laughter makes my cheeks hurt

his joy is contagious

I would give up all the candy in the world

all the sugar

forfeit any sweetness at all,

for his smile,

my light,

the next action you take determines much about you.

do you squish it, leave it, or take it outside?

either way, it's life span isn't very long.

but would you smash a butterfly?

a moth and butterfly were both caterpillars.

I was always terrified of ending up with a man like my father,

Who knew I’d become the man like my father.

Im not patient or gentle

People say I have a motherly nature about me

But I've deemed its due to my anxious nature,

and my tendency to cry about things they don't understand yet

Im overprepared out of love

Thats also why I scream.

I scream my head off, and I yell to be heard

If I don't look both ways for them, who will?

I have my Dziadek’s eyes, and my grandmothers knack for making people feel bad about

things they can’t control

I've been told im the mirror image of my Dzaidek, just a girl.

Ive never met the man, though ive heard countless stories.

Apparently im wise beyond my years, and I overuse “stupid”

My fathers paranoia sinking to the pit of my stomach

I overclarify, and ignore messages.

I have my mothers hips, and my fathers habit of overconfrontation, yet avoidance.

So im sorry for your messages I swiped away

And im sorry for my lack of motivation,

my straight D’s on my report card.

They died monday but they left hanging upside-down in my room like a taxidermied corpse.

The empty pepsi bottle from the mall, stationary on my nightstand

My first bouquet of flowers.

When the garden had briefly died they were left hanging up in my room

The pepsi bottle unmoving

The stuffed animals in my bin

The artwork hanging on my wall.

The flowers died 5 months ago

The garden reflowered, producing more than I ever thought it would in the beginning

I look at the garden as though it’s the only thing important in the world.

I don’t think i would’ve ever moved the stuffed animals from my bin

Or the artwork hanging on my wall

Or that stagnant pepsi bottle

Even if the garden had died permanently, it was still filled with my favorite flowers

Untaxidermied, but corpses are something to respect

Even if they're left as just a memory.

The flowers died 6 months ago

Every day im thankful the garden was revived.

There are more flowers than there were before the garden had turned moribund.

Just watering wasn’t enough, ive found.

watering is just as necessary as soil compatibility, and sunlight.

Gardening is time, patience, effort, and frustration.

But those dried flowers hanging in my room are symbolic of just how far i’ve come

That motionless pepsi bottle

Those stuffed animals

Though they're not sentient or living, they still somehow have so much soul.

That artwork

Those photo strips

Memories.

Though the flowers died 7 months ago they’re my favorite memory.

Hung up behind a dresser

I don't see them daily

But I feel their presence

I have other memorabilia in perfect view

Able to be held, or just look at.

The flowers, however, are fragile.

Yet resilient

Because as I've been saying,

The flowers died monday

Wait

27 mondays ago

Wilted, withered

Yet still beautiful

And a remarkable reminder of the garden

They died, yet other aspects are thriving

Its not always bad when a part of you dies

Sometimes you have to lose yourself to find yourself

The flowers died but im still very alive

And so is the garden

The pepsi bottle has shifted slightly

The stuffed animals on my bed, instead of in a hamper

The wall of artwork has grown

And so has the garden