May God bless me with a man who sees flowers the way I do
Not as gifts that fade, but as words the heart chooses when love is too beautiful for language.
I have long lived in the shadow of “less”
less loved, less seen, less held in every sense.
Tell me.. when will what is quietly mine
stop passing me by?
And now I see, through tears and pain,
That love can bloom from loss again.
I’ll keep the lessons, not the ache,
The dreams I built, the ones that break.
You were my story, not my end
I’m learning how my soul can mend.
I loved you once, too deep, too long,
My heart forgot where it belonged.
For years I stayed within your shade,
While all my colors slowly fade.
But time, it whispers, soft and kind,
“There’s more than him within your mind.”