Pretty Little Flower
Pretty Little Flower divorce stories
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s0me0ne
s0me0ne Wordplay. Horseplay. Foreplay.
Autoplay OFF   •   22 days ago
The story of a Pretty Little Flower who ultimately grows into the light. Written for someone (wrong) to help her through a tough time, she's allowed me to share and I hope others might find some strength in it.

Pretty Little Flower

Grew up in the shade of the Big Strong Tree

Grew up in the shade of the Big Strong Tree Pretty Little, fragile, Flower

Grew up in the shade of the Big Strong Tree Pretty Little, fragile, Flower Protected, safe, beautiful

Grew up in the shade of the Big Strong Tree Pretty Little, fragile, Flower Protected, safe, beautiful Her colours, shy yet resplendent amongst the dense foliage that did surround.

Grew up in the shade of the Big Strong Tree Pretty Little, fragile, Flower Protected, safe, beautiful Her colours, shy yet resplendent amongst the dense foliage that did surround. Content.

Pretty Little Flower.

Pretty Little Flower. ROCKED

Pretty Little Flower. ROCKED Contentment crushed.

Pretty Little Flower. ROCKED Contentment crushed. The Big Strong Tree grew too big for its bed

Pretty Little Flower. ROCKED Contentment crushed. The Big Strong Tree grew too big for its bed Cut down and moved away

Exposed, vulnerable and alone

Exposed, vulnerable and alone Pretty Little Flower

Exposed, vulnerable and alone Pretty Little Flower Cowers towards the closest

Exposed, vulnerable and alone Pretty Little Flower Cowers towards the closest Big Strong Tree she could find

Exposed, vulnerable and alone Pretty Little Flower Cowers towards the closest Big Strong Tree she could find Seeking protection.

Exposed, vulnerable and alone Pretty Little Flower Cowers towards the closest Big Strong Tree she could find Seeking protection. Familiarity.

Exposed, vulnerable and alone Pretty Little Flower Cowers towards the closest Big Strong Tree she could find Seeking protection. Familiarity. Comfort.

Finally, the Pretty Little Flower

Finally, the Pretty Little Flower Reaches

Finally, the Pretty Little Flower Reaches Feels the familiarity of the damp, dark, shade.

Finally, the Pretty Little Flower Reaches Feels the familiarity of the damp, dark, shade. Content once more.

THEN

Pretty Little Flower. FLATTENED

Pretty Little Flower. FLATTENED Again.

Pretty Little Flower. FLATTENED Again. Another Big Strong Tree felled.

Pretty Little Flower. FLATTENED Again. Another Big Strong Tree felled. There are no more Big Strong Trees.

She is alone.

She is alone. There is nowhere that is safe.

She is alone. There is nowhere that is safe. There is no future.

And then the storm hits.

Pretty Little Flower is battered by the winds.

Pretty Little Flower is battered by the winds. Drowned by the rains.

Pretty Little Flower is battered by the winds. Drowned by the rains. Swallowed by her own despair.

Pretty Little Flower is battered by the winds. Drowned by the rains. Swallowed by her own despair. And gives herself to the cruel, harsh elements.

Pretty Little Flower is battered by the winds. Drowned by the rains. Swallowed by her own despair. And gives herself to the cruel, harsh elements. So she relents. Gives up.

Pretty Little Flower.

Pretty Little Flower. So naive. So sheltered. .

Pretty Little Flower. So naive. So sheltered. Did not understand.

Pretty Little Flower. So naive. So sheltered. Did not understand. That the Elements did not wish to rip the Pretty Little Flower from her roots.

Pretty Little Flower. So naive. So sheltered. Did not understand. That the Elements did not wish to rip the Pretty Little Flower from her roots. The Elements loved her.

Pretty Little Flower. So naive. So sheltered. Did not understand. That the Elements did not wish to rip the Pretty Little Flower from her roots. The Elements loved her. And wanted her to grow anew.

The storm passes.

Pretty Little Flower is still Pretty Little Flower.

Pretty Little Flower is still Pretty Little Flower. For now, at least.

Pretty Little Flower is still Pretty Little Flower. For now, at least. But what is the point?

Pretty Little Flower is still Pretty Little Flower. For now, at least. But what is the point? Another storm will come and then surely

Pretty Little Flower is still Pretty Little Flower. For now, at least. But what is the point? Another storm will come and then surely Pretty Little Flower will be no more.

But Pretty Little Flower Is so very wrong

Ignorant, that the rain which she mistook

Ignorant, that the rain which she mistook To drown her, instead had nourished her.

Ignorant, that the rain which she mistook To drown her, instead had nourished her. That the wind she mistook

Ignorant, that the rain which she mistook To drown her, instead had nourished her. That the wind she mistook To blow her away, instead had strengthened her.

And she had grown.

And she had grown. Into the gaze of the sun.

And she had grown. Into the gaze of the sun. For the very first time.

Her instinct was to cower. Retreat back to her shade

But the sun was warm.

But the sun was warm. And so she, bravely, let it touch her.

And she felt comfort.

And she felt comfort. An altogether different type of comfort.

And she felt comfort. An altogether different type of comfort. Warmth. Energy. Love.

And Pretty Little Flower momentarily stopped cowering.

And Pretty Little Flower momentarily stopped cowering. Straightened. And reached further towards the light.

And Pretty Little Flower momentarily stopped cowering. Straightened. And reached further towards the light. And each time she reached, she grew.

And Pretty Little Flower momentarily stopped cowering. Straightened. And reached further towards the light. And each time she reached, she grew. Stronger, higher, bigger.

As she grew, she transformed.

The colourful petals that had once embodied her.

The colourful petals that had once embodied her. Dropped.

The colourful petals that had once embodied her. Dropped. And with them. So did the self-pity.

The colourful petals that had once embodied her. Dropped. And with them. So did the self-pity. The fear.

The colourful petals that had once embodied her. Dropped. And with them. So did the self-pity. The fear. And the resentment. She was indeed anew.

Instead of hating upon the Elements.

Instead of hating upon the Elements. She looked upon them as her compass.

Instead of hating upon the Elements. She looked upon them as her compass. Instead of a bitter yearning for Big Strong Trees.

Instead of hating upon the Elements. She looked upon them as her compass. Instead of a bitter yearning for Big Strong Trees. She realised they were just a necessary part of her journey. But not necessary any longer.

Instead of fearing tomorrow. She yearned for the inspiration that each new sunrise offered.

And one morning. Just as her bright, yellow friend peeked its nose above the horizon.

She took the time to pause, and reflect.

To look around her at what she had become.

And she realised.

Her worst fears had been realised.

That Pretty Little Flower was no more.

Pretty Little Flower was now the Big Strong Tree.

Pretty Little Flower was now the Big Strong Tree. Still resplendent in vivid colour, but so much more.

She looked down to where her deflowered petals had fallen. As a kind of trail of her past. Her experiences. Her legacy.

She looked down to where her deflowered petals had fallen. As a kind of trail of her past. Her experiences. Her legacy. But those petals were also no more.

Under her protection and in her likeness,

They had transformed. Sprouted.

The Big Strong Tree now had Pretty Little Flowers at her feet too.

That loved her. That needed her. That wanted her.

Only she knew what the other Big Strong Trees had not.

She knew not to grow so big, so bold, so self-enamoured.

That she would cast her shadow over all below.

Rather, she would stay true to the Pretty Little Flower she once was. She would make sure that the Elements would touch them all.

And they would all grow.

And they would all grow. Together.

And they would all grow. Together. Brighter

And more beautiful than might ever have been imagined by any Pretty Little Flower.

Thank you for reading. This is the piece that got me writing again. And realising my words can be used for good. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate all your comments, likes and follows. They inspire me to keep going on this journey.

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