A flower bloomed in my heart
and I thought you could see
what it looked like, but you only
looked at the pale pink fluffy lilies,
like frosting on frosting on a cake
of lace. They're so feminine, you said.
Like you, you meant. So I knew how
to be feminine. Only, the lily I tried
to grow into didn't look anything
like what you liked. And the more
I tried the worse it got, because I
could feel the petals getting scrunched
and you could see my heart wilting.
And then I wasn't a flower and you
were there not to tend me
but to weed me out.
~November 15, 2010
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