pieces of me

Petals ago (2/2)

When my sun waves goodbye, I know all is well because it rises for you. The moon and I meet again. A quiet combination of lullabies rocks me to sleep, as I stubbornly conserve my energy. I pretend that the sun can reach me from where you are, so panes around me don't set in. Though such a small flower like me could never get enough sunlight. A plant can receive too much heat.

*seen*

I could call myself a jasmine. I could tell myself that strong and sweet scent belongs to me. "The Jasmine flower releases its fragrance at night after the sun has set and especially when the moon is waxing towards fullness." It seems about right. But it's not. I am Jazmyn. One that should be "ignored," according t- *delete*.It isn't detected as the identity of me. One that you must, "Add to Dictionary."

*is typing... is typing... please update*

But when you *type* my name, it becomes more fluid than the overflown tunnel down my driveway. The charcoal eyes that only I call nuisance, become honey under glistening sunrise. My negativity goes as quick as it comes when you metaphor me in the funniest way. My petals change to orange as my inner tiger lily sprouts... and everything is okay.

Recently the sun and moon haven't been very talkative lately. As time ticks forward, I gently place the old times in my pouch. This pouch each and everyone receives when memory begins to store in our tiny heads. We can't save every memory because we have our entire life to collect those that are special to us. But the time that I have had to grow with you, has been like no other. I will save these forever and never forget such a wonderful thing.

                *taptap*

And now when they say, "When life gives you lemons..." I will have already made a tray, for me to share with the world. You have taught me this. 

I finally close my eyes and I pray that my hum reaches you and the sun... as the wind, like a feather... blows me away.

                                *Delivered*