all flowers are weeds, but not all weeds are flowers

i grew out of a crack in the sidewalk. concrete walls and asphalt floors are not the most hospitable, but i sprouted nonetheless. i was stepped on and undernourished at times, but i learned to grow strong roots and take in fleeting moments of sunlight. then, one day, you came along. i must have caught your eye when you passed me, because you stopped to admire me. you were taken by my beauty, so you plucked me from my concrete home and put me in your pocket. i remember how colorful your garden was; i'd never seen so much green in my life. you set me down in the dirt and tucked me into the soil with such care and tenderness. my neighbors were tall and strong, vibrant in hues i hadn't thought possible. it was a good life. too good for me. while your other flowers blossomed and bloomed, i shrank and shriveled. you watered and nurtured me, and slowly grew angrier with each of my new wilted leaves.

"WHY AREN'T YOU GROWING"

"I GIVE YOU EVERYTHING"

"I RESCUED YOU"

"SAVED YOU"

"WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT"

i didn't know how to tell you. that this was too good for me. i didn't know how to live. i only knew how to survive. i was tough and hard and couldn't grow in such a lovely garden like your other flowers. you thought you could save me. fix me. all you did was take me away from what i knew and showed me how

truly

broken

i was.