Ma petite fleur, please forgive me,
I’ve told you too much.
I opened up like the earth with dirt spilling,
oozing back into the bottomless pit.
Didn’t see you fall in, because I was so busy complaining.
Didn’t recognize you, covered in that soil – as I walked away.
Please forgive me, ma petite fleur.
I messed up the delicate balance of aging
and becoming a friend.
I put him first even when I thought my
life would end.
I pray that you’ll be stronger for it someday,
ma petite fleur.
I pray that you’ll forgive me.
