It started on the floor of the backseat. - Vignette. 13.7.23.

You left me a lily with the promise of love and care,

but the same day you left, I kicked the pot

over- an accident- I swear!

Soil tumbled all over the carpet,

your memory scattered amongst

the fluff. I recovered all that I could and

I vowed to

do better.

But a several weeks in, I was senseless

during a storm, boxed myself in and

neglected the lily in the hail.

By morn, she was drowned in

Damp soil, still hanging on, holding her

breath from the heartless stream.

I rescued her, helped her dry

in the sun

she was warm

when I left her with a mere

apology and a

lie.

Who knows when I next

returned, but the

flowers around her were in

full bloom- flourishing

beneath the blue skies.

The lily wouldn’t let her

tears free, and

I would not have

cared. My back to her, admiring the

pink petals of her peers.

Later, I stumbled

upon her- an accident-

I think. She was not

happy to see me. She was not even there

anymore.

Her stem;

nothing but slaughtered remains.

Her head;

decapitated and already decomposing.

I did not weep. I only

wished her away. I left her pot

as a warning of my waste.

Seasons faded into one.

Winter was cruel, the winds

iced my skin in penance

for my crimes. I repented.

I prayed. I hurt, but nothing

like she did.

On a morn not

unlike those

before, god knows how

long since last. I

followed the grass to

a suspicious shrub, and

there she was,

far from shrunken.

I ogled. I stared. She was beautiful.

Her pot, a mere crown of

Her golden glory.

Bare handed I uprooted the shady shrub

And then

I uprooted the lily.

Cradled with care,

she found home in

new soil. It was

all I had to offer, but

perhaps it was

all she had needed.

The lily is still there-

even now- always

in reach, but always

alone.

On occasion the

threat of nature

knocks her

down and

she loses pieces

here and

there. Sometimes

I peer out and sigh with

sorrow. She reminds me of

times tossed aside with

no guilt.

I am still-

guilty- Most times

her presence is

a gift of reassurance,

a promise was made

a promise can

always be

kept. I will

even after I am

gone. I will

be her soil. I will

become home.