For a long time after I noticed it, I hid it. I gazed at it, puzzled and astonished, unable to make sense of it. I only knew: it looked so vulnerable, so beautiful and wild, yet so fragile that I couldn't possibly show it to the world. But then, at some point, I realized it had stopped growing. It was still there, the wildflower in full bloom, but its color was fading. And its petals were bending in the confines of my chest. They needed more space. And it was as if it were silently pleading with me: "Please show me the world."
Of course she would never ask that. She would never demand. But her condition broke something inside me. So I carried them outside. Right in front of my chest. For everyone to see.
The delicate flower without a name. I carried them outside, even at the risk that someone could come and tear them off at any time. I carried them outside, even at the risk that someone might come and pick them apart.
And they came. Some took just one petal with them and placed it neatly in their diary, others played love oracles with their blossoms:
"He loves me, he loves me not."
And then came is gardener and simply cut it off when it was only hanging on a leaf anyway. And I bled. I held out my hands is chest, but it didn't stop.
I was bleeding from my eyes, my soul. she was gone you took her from me And you just disappeared. Nobody came to treat my wound.
But I still had two hands and I had a pair of eyes and legs to carry me and my breath is continued to function and take care of me despite the pain. See you very slowly is wound became a scar. The doctors said, "We're sorry. It stays forever.” The others asked, “What happened?” And you turned away.
But what none of them knew were their roots and tendrils, which were still deeply rooted in me.
The years passed, leaves fell, flakes danced, flower rain strayed in wind and hair from all directions. And suddenly a bud from my scar and suddenly a color I've never seen before. And suddenly she was there. Even stronger and more beautiful. A new flower that was no longer nameless. Because when I finally saw her. Did she tell me without saying anything.
The wonderful flower called love.
I no longer show her the world.
I show them is World.
