Bloom

 
Buried deep within my heart was a rose with no petals that always had a song to sing, accompanied by a thorn to sting.

 She would say I loved you so I was willing to become you and leave me behind.  Find solace in the confines of your mind and even go so far as to dwell in the linings of your throat so I could leave when you spoke and return when you heard traveling through and through the deepest parts of you.

I looked and said if you have no petals, that means you're dead, why and how are you still in my head? 

She would laugh and laugh until one single petal would bloom and say my dear child can't you see that I'm you.

Can't you see that I sit lifeless until you tell me what to do?  Can't you see that I don't bloom because you don't bloom.

That maybe just maybe, we are one in the same.  That just as you don't honor me, you don't honor your brain, you are your slave but,  you love to point blame.

It was then and only then that I learned her name.