I am a flower. I only have so many petals for you to pick. You are fixated on them, for they are beautiful, vibrant, and obvious. But what about my sepals? What about the rest of me? You are not interested. For your eyes are filled with apathy to what you’ve never seen. So you take my petals, of which I only have so many. And once they are gone, you will be too. And I’ll be left in my barest state, ready to grow into something more.
- Edgar Allan Poe (via petrichour)