You didn't plant roses in my mind.
You didn't cultivate a garden
of the most exquisite flowers
in the saddest parts of me.
But you planted chrysanthemums there
less common and striking
but known for their endurance
but you slowly tended
to all the weeds
pulling them out
one by one.
and
you made sure that
even after you were gone
I'd be able to take care of myself,
with or without you.
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