The Book of The Roses

Rosemary

I decided to bring something of my past back from storage. It was a pot with a dead plant on it. This was my plant. My plant of regrets. 

    I remember planting the seeds on this pot many months ago. The first ever regret I ever had. Then, those leaves came and made it worse.

With every leaf that bloomed, a new regret came to haunt me. So, how many of leaves grew on this plant of mine? Too darn many to count if I say so myself.

Their scent came like the roses that haunted me for years now, never letting me be who I wanted to be. Their leaves, that sent, everything that plant carried will forever haunt me.

They'll haunt me until there is nothing left to haunt.

At that point, they would've won. I would've given in to the rosemaries of regrets.

But do you really think I would do as you say? Now, you are darn right stupider than I am. Who do you think I am? A snail? Or am I mutt? I should clarify for you that I am none of those.

I have been reborn with a new fate. I will not succumb to your level. You are a disgrace to me. You are dead to me, and soon, your scent will cease to exist.

My rosemary full of regrets, you are dead now because I abandoned you. I never want to suffer by your hand ever again.