When she was a girl, she searched for love the way you’d search for tulips, daisies, or roses in a lush garden, choosing carefully hoping the beauty, richness, and vibrant colors would last.
When she was a girl, one day a boy spoke to her and brought her the roses pink and white like the ones that matched the print on her bedroom wall while her mother ranted, cried, and s-c-r-e-a-m-e-d. The mother shoved those beautiful petals down the drain too. The gurgling sound was the backdrop, that ferocious noise in her messy head.
When she was a girl, time passed terribly slow until she grew. She grew with the seasons. She grew with the sunlight, fresh water, and the wind. Her limbs seemed to branch out like thick, glorious vines gaining strength and forming into something solid as she rose up, up, and UP.
Yes, she rose onward toward that massive, cloudless sky.