I vented pen to paper.
Certainly, I was hurt. Certainly, I made the right decision. But, I definitely didn't want you in my life anymore. Looking back, why did I cry over you? Why did I allow you to waste my precious time? And wasted it, you did.
You wasted my time for far too long, and I didn't want you to waste my time any longer. So, I made a change. I realized what I deserved in an instant, and you didn't deserve me...at all. Shame on you for stringing me along, but shame on me for allowing it.
After I decided you weren't worthy of my time, I let you go.
Surely I was hurt and I was confused but I was confident in my damn choice. So in order to heal, I vented. Maybe people don't understand the healing power of writing but, it is not weak; my written word could break that absent-hearted-son-of-a-b*&^$ in a heartbeat, whatever heartbeat he has left, that is.
A metaphor for the heart:
"I won't settle for anything less than what I deserve."
How can a flower speak to a stone in a garden? How does a stone speak to a flower in a garden? Does the stone even know that the flower is there, being an inanimate stone?
The flower wonders how a stone can fulfill a life full of passion and light when one is a stone? A stone; a solid, unfaltering, cold and hard mineral made from the earth. Surely a stone can be beautiful- tiny, sparkling crystals that may at times, reflect the sun's rays. A stone can be large, or small, smooth or rigid; but usually maintains a shape generally oval or spherical.
A flower on the contrary....a flower starts as a seedling and grows with time. With the sun's rays, a flower grows happy and free. It never chooses to outgrow another flower, but to grow with the seasons. Flowers are beautiful; with so many shapes, delicate petals, sizes, scents and vibrant colors.
Flowers have a relationship with the ground in which they sprout from; the wind in which their seeds travel, the sun in which strengthens their stems and the rain in which feeds their roots. A flower sways in the wind's direction and if neglected will wilt. Mostly, flowers abide by their cycles; they grow into a beautiful art of nature.
Stones...are made and drafted to one shape for all eternity. A stone does not grow when watered or sway in the direction of the wind's gust. It sustains its current state of being for infinite- without any feeling but cold. In essence, is it fair that a stone is destined to have no feel?
Does a flower have a choice but to grow?
