my rebirth, my demise, and my rebirth again.
the ground was cold and hard. it resembeled concrete with its dryed cracks. it was treated like concrete; people would walk over it while going about their day, never really looking down. i got fed up. screaming silent cries i came in with a mallet and destroyed the concrete. with bloody hands i tore it away, never feeling the pain because it was too cold out. the exposed dirt was raw and empty; what could be done with it? what was the use? but i tilled it anyway, alone i nourished it. it was still so cold out, my whole body seemed permanently numb. for two years i cared for that land, planting flowers and watching them grow. it turned out quite beautiful, though still so cold. there appeared a well in the middle of the land, a weird occurance, but i accepted the nousence. it cryed out of lonliness and rejection so i took one of my beautiful flowers that i had grown on my own and i pluked off a pedal. i dropped the pedal down the well, watching it dissapear into the black. the well still moaned. it was in the middle of my land, so i felt an obligation to stop its cries. the next day i tossed in another pedal. the well still moaned. i tossed in another pedal. i can help this well, i thought, it just needs a little love to be able to see, and in time it will be able to feed its own moans. i tossed in another pedal. this went on for days, then weeks, years. the moans just grew louder. they clouded my mind and i couldnt see that i was destorying my own garden more and more each day. the garden that i had made completely by myself, completely for myself. i was feeding my garden into this black well that was never getting full. i tried to back away and save the few flowers i had left, but the well just moaned and mooaannneeddd. finally. fiinnalllyyyy i fully woke up, stepped back, and saw my garden. i looked like it had before the tilling, the nourishing. flowerless and dry. i cried for my loss, i screamed for my loss. it was then that i chose to cover the well, silence its cries, to my ears at least, and start to rebuild my garden. completely by myself, completely for myself.