It was never a secret,
The thoughts in your head.
I knew them like pages
In books I had read.
You spoke them like poems
By poets unknown.
They blossomed like tulips
In meadows they've grown.
I loved all the flowers
That grew from your mind;
I picked them in bunches,
Every one I could find.
To me, your thoughts were flowers,
To you, mine were only weeds.
You yanked them from their roots
And poisoned all their seeds.
You left me cold and broken,
But you were thriving still,
I guess you never loved me
And you never truly will.
But I didn't let it poison me
When you picked me from the ground,
I began to grow my roots again,
And my new strength was found.
When you pick a flower
It grows back again next year.
But when a head's pulled off a weed,
A new one's always near.
Being told you are a flower
Isn't always what you need,
Sometimes what you have to hear
Is it's okay to be a weed.
-a.b
