the trees speak latin.

Salve tu,

I have flowers in my hair to make up for the dirt behind my lips because I'm afraid society has turned my mouth filthy. (Whoops Nelson I've used this line before, too.)

If I could I would take the flowers from my hair and plant them on my tongue and let them grow into something pretty just to hear you say,

"Tu es pulchra - You are beautiful." 

I would let them spread deep inside me and take root into my hips and soul, just so you would be proud of the woman I would become.

I would tell you,

 "Te amo - I love you." 

And mean it. It would take effort - my lungs are a bit too damaged to take in the air to create those three words. They are missing pieces my heart stole to keep itself alive. But I would say it for you just so you would hear it straight from me because although we've been together since the moment I was born, there are still parts of each other we can't understand.

I would share my heart with you, creaking valves and all. I would hand it to you and say,

"Me paenitet - I'm sorry." 

for the way it stutters in your hands, for its harsh disposition, for the way it doesn't know quite how to forget. I would let it whisper my secrets I've only ever told to the trees and hope that maybe you would whisper your secrets back.

But I can't grow flowers from the filth in my mouth and I can't tell you I love you and I can't share my heart.

Because I'm afraid that the flores in my hair aren't just making up for the dirt behind my lips and I'm afraid if the trees weren't the only ones who knew my secrets you would stop loving me. 

Sharing my heart with you would only break yours.

Arbores autem memini secreta mea scire latine loqui.

Vale,
xx
Blue