gardenia hands, a poem important to me (dedicated to tia snow)
Posted March 9th, 2023 by ElizieAngelina
in Inkopolis (jk, it's Texas.)
March 9th, 2023
her hands flowed into the gardenia of
exploding plants, seemingly blending in
flowers.
flowers and daisies,
everywhere.
bursting with color and vibrancy,
hands clutching at the menagerie
legs stretched across the grass
the clutching became rough somehow,
the grass crumpled under her hands
no;
fists
this gardenia was not an old friend
it never had been
this gardenia was not something she had loved
if she had loved it in the first place,
that love would fade away instantly
this gardenia was not something she could accept
the once-beautiful flowers
in a torn stash,
their beauty scattered
where the girl's resting place once was,
no longer green,
but black
she was no longer one with the earth.
where her gardenia hands once were,
smoke and ash cascaded
in fact;
she was a fire, endlessly raging against her enemies
the remnants of the gardenia
burnt away with the flames
and dissipated into the sky
picture this.
a once-beautiful area,
torn by the wind, water, and fire
hope there is no longer in time,
as it was years ago
yet every day,
the girl returned
her words written on her hands and legs,
in more ways than one, of course
there was no faith,
yet the girl couldn't finish the job
i wonder why?
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Ok, you know who else is wondering why? ME
Why can't the gardenias stay?? Why did her (your?) hands become fire? How many ways are the words written in your arms and legs?
Also, why did you choose to dedicate this to me?
Poetically this is a strong piece, by the way. The imagery is very amazing--fundamental. Flowers devolve into the four elements...
I can't understand this poem, but am also not sure if I'm meant to.
Good yard,
(Warmest regards)
Snow