when it comes to love, petals hold a big part.
from silly little crushes when you were 7,
picking petals being the only way you would know if one likes you back,
repeating the words "he loves me, he loves me not"
up to 11 when your only problem in life was not if a boy liked you back but which one direction member was cuter.
at 15 you'd be naïve to think it'd last forever, with no petals now you continue to repeat in your head "he loves me, he loves me not".
at 18 you understand, not to worry but withhold stance. as a boy regifts all the flowers you've let go since a child, and allowed them to grow, as did you whilst you were by his side.
no more questions of whether he loved you or not, as you felt secure, everything felt pretty, just like the daisies you used to pick sat in the giant field, but once flowers are picked, no matter how pretty, eventually they die out.
and although they were beautiful while they lasted, you can't bring them back to life.
at 19, still so young but you figured it out.
you grew your own garden all by yourself.
full of tulips and roses of red white and blue,
all expressing different ways of "i love you " s.
You learned not to pry for petals nor love, but appreciate the colours you've been surrounded of.
you're grateful for you're friends, as they helped water them too, and helped them feel happy, just like they did with you.
you've spent all your life surrounded by flowers, and maybe when your older you'll be holding them at at a venue, but until that day you've come to terms that its okay to recover and be happy just you.
