Pretty Little Flowers

You’re so vibrant

Or rather, that’s what I recall.

It feels vibrant to remember you,

At least.

It was cold

And we were both silent,

Shivering in worlds apart

It seemed.

Somehow, you bloomed

In January’s deadly quiet,

Drearily blanketed as you were,

I perceived.

Thoroughly naked,

Your boldness of spirit

Inspired many, though others thought

you diseased.

I must confess,

The winter left me frightened,

My calloused petals nearly scared

To breathe.

By spring

I hadn’t so much as sprouted,

Even as you were shimmering

In the eve.

You were vibrant.

Yes, I’m sure now you were.

Your vibrancy must have marked you

To those fiends.

I’d noted them,

The howling sons of tyrants

Braying their tempers vehemently

To their weeds.

Utter lust

To the point of carnal violence

Towards such saturated colors

As we.

I lay dormant,

But you swayed on defiant

To be ravaged so voraciously

By those things.

I heard it all.

I shuddered, but I was silent.

Now your swaying has all but stifled

With the breeze.

It’s winter again.

I’m cold and also still quite frightened,

But for our sakes, I promise I’ll finally bloom

Vibrantly in Spring.