Petals That Remember the Storm

They say flowers forget

once the sun returns

but mine never did.

Each petal still holds

the weight of that night,

when the sky tore open

and the world smelled of iron and fear.

I remember how the rain

didn’t fall it broke,

shattering against us

like a thousand whispered warnings.

You stood there,

hands trembling around my own,

telling me storms always pass.

But your eyes

they were already miles away.

When the wind screamed,

I felt it take something from you

a light, a laughter,

a reason to stay.

Now in the quiet garden,

I touch the blooms,

their edges curled like old letters,

their colors muted but stubborn

proof they lived through the unkind sky.

And I wonder…

if flowers remember the storm,

how could I ever forget you?