As I pulled the plant by the stem I heard the ripping of fibrous roots. "Just a weed," I sighed. I'd been pulling so many, my hands started to ache and it made my eyes water. Purging the bed of flowers of the life-sucking stalks. Just like I'd been doing for months- ridding my world of things that brought me down. Five, four, three... how many now? Only three? Three flowers left in the flowerbed.
Turns out the others were just weeds. Sometimes you have to wait and see them bloom before you know. They open up all rotten and ugly and you just have to keep pulling them up.
But you can hardly ever get to all of the roots.
I pull up the vines as I water the garden with my eyes.
"Just weeds," I choke. Just weeds...
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