I used to have this beautiful smile…

But it’s been so long since I’ve experienced the shallow happiness I grew in that I fear I may have forgotten how to. I used to bloom in those days, when the bliss was sweet enough for me to feel its inspiration go through my toes and to my head. I let it infect my mind with pretty things, like good grades and peace on earth. I let the sunshine fill in the shadows. We were all pretty creatures that no one would dare touch.

And then one day, there was the flood. We either died under it or got lost above it. What’s left since I’ve floated into the depths of this salty water? Only the motions. I bud, but don’t blossom. I grow, but I grey. I try, but I never understand why I was meant to succeed.

So, you see, when you ask me to smile, you ask me to lie. You ask me to blossom where there are no bees, where there is no sun, where nature doesn’t need me to bloom. And I won’t forget that time when you told me I was beautiful, because it was then did I realize you were laced with synthetics. You can’t tell me that it’s Spring, because I’ll never believe you. I have to see it with my own eyes…

And maybe then, when I see then flowers – unplucked, untrimmed, and untouched – I will smile.