Chapter 6.5 : A Garden of Misplaced Hearts

She plants her love in barren fields,

where nothing grows, and nothing yields.

Thorns pierce deeper than the night,

yet she keeps sowing, blinded by spite.

Her hands are raw from holding air,

her heart split open, stripped bare.

Every bloom she dares to tend

rots in shadows she cannot mend.

She hates the ache that binds her so,

the way her love will never know

the arms that could deserve her fire,

while fools receive what she’d admire.

A garden cursed, a soul betrayed,

by tender feelings mislaid, decayed.

And in the mirror, she sees the part

that despises the love in her own heart.