Fleur {Green}

What makes a woman? What is and where lies her worth? Over the past few weeks my own value, purpose, wants, and needs have been heavy on my mind. I've questioned my existence many times, my place in the world, and what will come of my life and my death. As a child, as a girl, as an orphan, as a daughter, as a woman, as a person; for years, in my mind, I've seen myself as trapped. A free spirit caged by her fate and her own resignations. I am someone whose tears freely fall, whose heart often constricts with overwhelming, unyielding emotions. Love and bitterness, conviction and despair, attachment and distant loss all ripple through the waters of my mind and my heart, spreading out before settling and repeating again. I don't fully understand myself, my thoughts nor my choices, but I do know that I feel. I am crippled by feelings that rise for all things and all people that touch the path of my life. It's unbending, all-encoming, and destructive. My heart is like a flower with petals that fall into any and all hands. I give and I pour from myself haphazardly like a broken dam and as the years go by I waste away, pieces of me floating near and far. While the strings of fate pull me every-which-way, I continue to float aimlessly and emptily. I give too much and know too little; naive, desperate, and filled with self-guided regrets.