Ashes of a Folded Flower

I folded my courage into corners,
Creased hope with careful hands.
Each petal learned her name
Before it ever learned to bloom.

Paper remembers touch,
The patience, the trembling,
The way I tried to make something beautiful
Out of something plain.

She didn’t take it.
Didn’t need to.
Silence has a weight
Heavier than refusal.

So I fed the rose to flame.
Watched red become ember,
Ember become nothing,
Like wanting someone who never reaches back.

The fire was quick,
But the ache was thorough.
Smoke carried what I couldn’t say,
That love, when unreceived, still burns.

Now there’s ash on my fingers,
A smell of loss in the air,
And a heart still folded,
Wondering why gentleness wasn’t enough.