Flowers can’t be Broken

Ah, your beautiful words have all wilted, sir. Like a handful of flowers, they began to die the moment you gave them to me. If your face were the sun, you turned it away. And if your heart, the earth, you tore them out by the roots. Your words became promises that never had the strength to break.

Here where I live, I can see that the sun still shines on the hills in bloom. And I realize that I prefer flowers that grow.