Flowers on concrete,
in concrete, in intangible quantities
in my heart- they fill my hollow
with colour like never before.
In situations that cut me open,
they run to get stitches
again and again:
loyalty that I wonder how I deserve.
And sometimes they lose me in crowds of
unknown faces at every turn
but in the break
between two rocks at a faraway beach,
away from reality, I’ll find them
blossoming between my broken heart.