I hide myself within my flower,
I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me -- Almost a loneliness.
Emily Dickinson
I hide myself within my flower, That fading from your Vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me -- Almost a loneliness.
Imagine a cut flower wilting quietly in someone’s vase. The one who picked it reaches out, trying to feel its presence, but the blossom is fading—and hidden deep inside it is the speaker herself. She isn’t just the flower; she’s something fragile and retreating that the other person barely notices.
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