When we were young you gave me flower-shaped items in video games. Then you sent me pictures of your likes and hobbies forming things I find beautiful. As time went on we lived more moments together and you found flowers for me everywhere we went. Sometimes you'd place them in my hair or braid the stems into my jewelry and other times they'd get pressed between blank pages in my notebooks. I'm sure you assumed that the flowers died or got left behind but all of them live on in homes made of bleached pulp and beds of calligraphy patterned sheets, beneath blankets of creative thought, constantly reminded of you and the love we have for each other. When we were young you loved to tease me in harsh ways then give me a flower as you called me pretty. Then we grew up, you mellowed out and I blossomed in the garden of your heart.
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