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Flourished
Begun as a cracked and rotten seedling
Now expectedly as a beautifully blossomed flower
But is far from it
It is a lily whose stems are not to their complete thickness
It is a dahlia whose vast flowers have not fully bloomed
It is a sweet pea whose tones of peach, fuscia, and periwinkle are muted and mundane
The seed has grown from its rotten beginnings
But is still speckled with its past as a bud
We have composted our soil and watered generously
All in attempts for it to bloom as a flower
We have changed the angles of where the sunlight hits
Yet not fully sprouted
We have snipped off the perished vines
Still has not bloomed to its potential
We two have tried to grow our flower together
And we have
I simply feel discomfort in its current state
I love the woman with whom I garden with
And though we are not to our potential in growth
I will be eternally grateful my mother and I have flourished to the bud we are now
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This is about my relationship with my mother.