The wilted flower of our acquaintance
judges my failure at satisfaction,
But its leaves still blossom as it dissolves,
its slow, inevitable decay.
This safety net behaves much like my mind;
it grows, matures, reflects-
unlike,
Your decaying. It makes you colourless,
and naïve to your own escape from this.
You could choose to forget
but here you feel comfort,
You believe you hold power;
So you’ll crumble as I develop-
And don’t think I didn’t warn you.