Like butter you slipped through my fingers.
Sticky business to be in
To hold on to a love that won’t hold on to you, to let it slip through.
No adhesive will join together onto what was the wrong fabric to begin with.
And still
I harvested the seeds I planted. Poured rose petals over your body whispering the sweetest I love you’s on a Sunday evening.
Used my tears to water you.
You, my soil.
Praying my love would take root in you . . . Blossom, into a garden.
And in me grew a garden, new. But my garden wasn’t tended to.
Winter came and reminded me that there was a reason for every season, and although our love weathered a hurricane . . .You just couldn’t stand the rain.
And when it rained, it poured.
And all is fair in love and war…
But some things . . . aren’t worth fighting for.
Sentimental Scribes 
this is really good. it’s melancholy but also uplifting in a way. at least to me. it’s kinda like acknowledging sadness or hurt but recognizing that you’ve grown from it. that’s just my take on it tho.
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