Petals - II

You see only what you want to see
Nothing to do, nothing to say, nothing to be
Nothing will make you happy.
Not when I'm being me.

My youth was a brightening bloom,
A rose freshly picked. As the seeds of
The others were taken by the wind.

But sometimes I don't understand
How you didn't know there'd be thorns
Which were all I thought of,
Turning into a man.

By adolescence I was a fallen flower
My petals taken by an unwanted groping hand
Maybe then I chose to hide for hours
As my health waned and thinned.

My stem I thought was then too weak
And all I could do was bow my head
By then, I wished I had already fled
This game of chance from which I am banned.

I grew, I think, in the wrong direction
Towards the wrong sort of light.
I thought that I could choose my way
But I am not eligible to make a selection.

And then, I think I was rooted.
I had grown too used to the breaking earth.
And to my delight,
I thought I had stopped the clocks.

Suddenly I could not convey,
As my life took an unexpected turn
Or so I thought. How foolish
Of me to believe I was worthy of such perfection.

Still I yearned.
And I tried to learn, from what I had known.
But for a long time now, my eyes were dry
My vision locked inside a watertight box.

I tried to soak up all that was left.
But everything leaves.
And everything burns.

I realised.
Through loathing reflection
Through lethal rejection
Through loving disconnection.

That I have no recollection
Of what others call affection.