Wallflower

Do you see me?
I could wait for you, but
I am fixed, dead weight to what
lies beneath me.
I am your wall flower.
Your support and your
decoration. In celebration of
how far you have come.
Have you lost me?
Did you take your eyes,
off the prize, and now all you
see are fragments of me
pasted onto the places
you used to sit.
The places you used to stand.
The chairs you used to sit in,
Residual reminders
are faded and burnt in colour
compared to before you let go.
Of my hand.
To make other plans.

I can hear you, I can.
And you look, you do, in my
direction, but you have forgotten
the finer details of my face, and
that okay, because even if you wanted me now,
I am sewn to the walls of my own
memories of you.
I will stay here.
It’s safer.
And there is a beauty in not being seen,
but those who have been
the ones who would have seen the most.