I still remember
When I was the little girl
That always overwatered
plants
Filling their pots to the
brim
And watching the water
overflow to the floor
Making small droplets on the carpet
That would soak into my socks
as I ran away.
Yesterday, my potted cactus
dried up and died.
I’ve become less nurturing than
the desert.
My love withers and slaughters.
My love withers and slaughters.
What happened to the little
girl
Overwatering because she didn’t
know when to stop giving?
Who did this to me
And why did I let them?
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