I was a flower like everyone else. But, I never blossomed. My petals never flared. The sun never got to shine over me. I was a broken flower. In the garden I was alone by myself. The other flowers blossomed and grew. As they grew, I became weaker. I couldn’t grow. I had no passion to grow. I wanted to die. How a flower only seven weeks old could wanted to die? I was a flower like everyone else, but when it rained and Mother Nature’s tears hit the glistening rocks nearby I saw myself. The other flowers always told me that I was ugly. The laughing, the snickering, I was an outcast. I saw myself through tears of Mother Nature, which became my tears for the five weeks, until one morning. The morning that the other flowers, ready to once again, make me feel like I was nothing. But that morning I wasn’t even capable of taking in the harassment. I tried so hard to stand strong on the ground I grew from, but that I spent time feeling myself grow so weak. I tried to scream for help, but I couldn’t. I was too scared to reveal to my roots that the creation they waited so long to see, was struggling to fathom the marks on my leaves the other flowers left. The other flowers came to diminish my self-worth, but how could they do anything if I wasn’t there. I was flower, I was a broken flower trying to fit in and be like the other flowers only to be an outcast. Now, I was a dead flower. My dry petals soaking in the dirt. This was only the beginning my continuous internal deaths. There would be more poisons flowers to come and I was die numerous of times, every time wondering when it would end. I was a flower like everyone else. I was a broken flower. I was a dead flower. I was a flower like everyone else. -k.
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About:The Student Wellness Collective is an all-inclusive organization that aims to create unity on campus and only focus on improvements. Archives
January 2019
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