were not broken. Rather, the stems had grown in the short time
I had held them. Green stalks circled my fingers and wrist as if
trying to embrace me.
I wrenched the flowers off of me. Something told me that
I could not allow myself to be seen with them upon me as they
were, for it would only bring questions.
But as I watched them fall into a puddle, I could only feel
sorrow and separation.
“Drowning in Your Thoughts”
Michaela Mark
18