Damn you for the flowers you let rot in your palms even though you were surrounded by soil. Thought you’d pick one and give it to me. I guess my soul is aged and I hope for things that make me feel remembered even though I’m still here. I reach for palms of strangers and share smiles with ghosts- it all gets lost in the wind and floats to a new place. I hope where it goes it learns to grow. Let peace bloom even though it didn’t start with you or your intentions. And maybe one day I’ll stumble across a field of flowers and know that I had something to do with it . -AMT©️