Pastels Will Fade

I used to ask my mom for my pastels, always out of my reach on a high shelf I colored. I swiped. I blended. I drew. Grapes for my greed Lemons for my bitterness Cherries for my fragility Strawberries for my temptation Apples for my sins Pomegranates holding onto my past In a bowl filled with my flows Today. Now. I can finally reach that shelf I wanted my pastels back, To color. To swipe. To blend. To draw. A new bowl of outgrown flaws. My pastels were dusty. Some were broken. And some were unused . I unwrapped them gently and I started all over again Color. Swipe. Blend. Draw. Roses for my love Sunflowers for my hope Daisies for my purity Irises for my faith Violets for my strength Lavenders for peace in my heart This time, in a bouquet of my all of my perfections, Same beginnings, yet different branches for each stem.✿︎