Water With Fake Flowers

Like water with fake flowers, we are separated. Though sometimes we both act as the fake flowers.

Water With Fake Flowers   
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My favorite flowers are called Magnolias. 

The flower that represents my home.

My first home.

The one I never got to see.

Some days,

I feel as useless as water with fake flowers.

The water doesn’t do anything to help the flowers grow.

But it’s still there.

The flowers aren’t able to absorb the water.

They aren’t even real.

But even if they were, they would be separate.

Like oil and water.

That’s not how it’s supposed to be.

The water is meant for the flowers to use.

But what benefit would the water get?

When its only job is to serve.

What if the flowers no longer want the water?

When the water isn’t needed, it’s then rejected from the flowers.

So it sits there, together with the flowers.

And yet entirely alone.

Maybe a cactus would use the water.

Until it’s drained the water for all it’s worth.

Then there is nothing left to give.

And the cactus searches for something better.

The rain serves us humans.

It tends to our fields.

Fills our oceans.

Brings us our water.

The rain doesn’t get anything in return.

I can understand that feeling.

The willingness of giving all that you are to something..

While getting nothing in return.

I am the water to your fake flowers.

You’re beautiful in every way.

Willing to accept the help given to you.

Unable to give anything in return.

Because that’s now how it’s supposed to be.

Not for us.

Sometimes you are also like water.

Willing to try to help me.

But I am like fake flowers.

Unable to let you do so.

But water with real flowers.

They work together.

It’s how they thrive.

They cannot exist without the other.

They pretend they don’t need each other.

But they still want to be near each other.

So they end up sticking together anyway.

Because they do need each other.

There are two gardens.

With two kinds of flowers.

Two different ponds.

With two different people.

The girl looked in the distance.

Seeing the other working away.

She wished he would look back.

But she shook it off and went back to work.

The boy looked over in her direction.

Seeing the other working away.

He knew she looked over at him.

He smiled and went back to work anyway.

Two gardens.

Two flowers.

Two people.

One love.

But like water with fake flowers.

That’s just not how the story is supposed to end.