Flower
by Sidra Musheer

Just out of Grade 12

Flower-
The word draws a myriad of images to one's mind,
Be it a delicate little plant
Or the moonlit face of their lover.

It holds meaning,
Immense meaning to those who utter it
But not to me
To me it is just another term in the dictionary.
Absolute indifference
Is what I feel on its mention.

Throughout time
Despite the varying countries, languages, eras and beliefs
This combination of syllables has always been a gateway for beings to express their unfathomable feelings towards one another

Feeling of love
Feeling of loss
Feeling of hope
Feeling of regret
Feeling of joy
Feeling of grief
This tiny, inanimate object has been universally used to portray one's feelings.

But not to me.
To me, it is nothing more than a capsule of confusion.
People have tried to give it so many meanings,
Tried to make it into something so divine
Something they could always turn to when at a loss of words
That they forgot to let it have its own essence.
They forgot to understand the real purpose it bloomed for.
They were so lost in trying to give anything and everything around themselves a reason for its existence
That they overlooked the fact that not all that is
Has to serve a certain purpose to simply exist.

The word holds no significance to me.
Just a lifeless corpse that has been labelled countlessly since its very birth.
In fact as I think about it now,
I find myself relating to it.
Not because I believe in any of the illogical tags that have been forced upon it
But because when I look at it
I see myself,
I see my entire life from start to end flash before my eyes.

Just how the seed of a flower is sown in a certain place
To how its stems have been moulded against its will to grow a certain way
To how it has been separated from its kin as if it were on display
To how anyone and everyone walking by would pass a judgement on its very face
To how it would be plucked once it was "pretty enough" to be bought
To how it would wilt in a dull, cream vase at a completely unfamiliar place
To how it would be thrown out once the owners noticed its state
Uncaring as to whether or not they were the reason for its deterioration

Flowers mean loss of identity to me
Ever-changing lovers
Forever at their planters' mercy
Not being able to bloom the way they wanted to
Their image constantly being changed

So when I see a person
Considering someone a flower in their eyes
I always wonder
What part of them they wish to alter.