Death Will Grow My Jasmine

Today I opened the door and was greeted with a hearty gust of wind. It tugged on my flyaway curls and buffeted my face.

The walk to the bus stop was spicier than usual, bits of dirt and leaves and twigs scratching my calves. It was the first day I wore shorts to school this semester, and already it was paying off.

I crossed the street to stand by the lopsided blue sign, halfway convinced the bus had already come and gone. Cars whipped past on the busy road, swirling blossom petals and making once-ugly trash dance in the breeze.

I breathed in the April air, cool and fresh as the mountain it had run from.

I remembered that just a few months ago I wanted to die; had begged God for it.

And I was happy to be alive.

But looking back now, hours later, it feels bittersweet. I’ve buried the Maney that wanted so desperately to die, just so this Maney who craves life can live.

So now we’re dancing through the garden
And what a garden I have made
And now that death will grow my jasmine
I find it soothing I’m afraid

Now there is no need for suspicion
There ain’t no fraud kissing your hand
I won’t be lying when I tell you
That I’m a gard’ner I’m a man
In your eyes babe

Lyrics from “The Gardener” by The Tallest Man On Earth.

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