Breadcrumb #420

GABRIELLA IBACACHE

The plants you have given me have all died.
It began at the tips of the leaves
Which faded from verdant green to sallow to bister.
Jaundiced,
And curled back on themselves.
Pulling away from the sun that shone too bright
Too strong
Too vibrant
Like the love I tried to give you.
I tried to coax them back
With gentle breath, which once gave life to flowers,
And now falls on withered roots.
I kept them on my windowsill for longer
Than was appropriate
Watering futilely every few days
And hoping to see new growth.
But sometimes,
No matter how much you try
And how much you will it so
Plants just don’t survive.

• • •