Succulent

Staring at my houseplant checking for any signs of life but its leaves are browned and its petals wilted and now I’m standing here preparing myself for another small death. Did I drown the soil just when things were starting to bloom or am I being dramatic. Let’s make this about the lack of sun flowing through my windows. Do you think a move to a brighter space could have bought us more time? Pressing my face up to the glass trying to take measure of the incoming light. I can’t distinguish north from south east from west or which way would have lead us to the source of life but it’s easier if I take the blame this time so go ahead and hand it to me.

Standing by the window aiming my questions toward a potted plant like maybe he has the answers. Watching while my words fall to the surface of the soil. Do they sink past that first layer down to the root? Or do they just keep moving through space? Maybe it’s better if we don’t try to explain why things live and why they die. Still I’m carrying my new succulent through the front door like we’ve never failed before like maybe this one will outlive the rest. Less water more sun follow your instincts.