Every year for mother's day,
I buy my mother a Hydrangea.
And every year,
it dies in the pot before it can be planted in the yard.

I don't know who is to blame.
Is she at fault
for never caring for it the way she intends to
or am I at fault
for allowing the cycle to continue?

I spent the spring semester of my junior year
in group therapy

Every Thursday for ten weeks,
I spent time talking out my short-comings
with other students
and every Thursday,
we were reminded that all of our actions
have a meaning behind them.

So when I think of you and I
I think of the Hydrangeas
and how you never care for me
the way you intend to
and how I always
allow the cycle to continue.