The Dearest Flower

Once, I had known a flower that existed to shed the fragrance of glee in my at that time, dull life. I eschewed the lovely petals it held, the green leafs that added more beauty to it and everything that made its outside attractive. Leaving it all behind, I went straight for the hidden possession, its mind.

It was a unique flower with a unique possession, a beautiful brain. Digging deeper and deeper, I started feeding on its mind like some bee hungry for intellect. Flower's gorgeous thoughts would take me to a place I called ecstasy that I, never even for once, wished to return from. It was a flower so beautiful, better than any flower I had ever known. The flower owned something more than just a mind. It had its own uniqueness that soon I got intoxicated to.

But one day, the flower closed all its petals to me, asked me to go look for a better flower than it. I hurt myself, touched every thorn the flower put in my way to push me far away. Thought the flower would sympathize seeing me bleed through every wound. I was delusional. It was too late to realize the flower had everything, except a heart. Hurt and betrayed, I looked everywhere in search of a new flower. But never found one better.

All broken, I cursed the flower enough for deserting me like this, in a state worse than death. The curse

was heard. Somebody plucked my flower and killed it.