The speaker imagines grief as a garden plant, something they tend and watch grow. The feeling is mixed from the start. They are proud of how strong and elegant it looks, yet it also makes them feel sick. That tension runs through the whole poem.
The speaker knows that once the flowers bloom, nobody will guess what they were. Grief will look like beauty. This splits the speaker in two: one part wants to give the flowers away and keep the pain hidden, while another wants people to see what these blooms have cost. Both urges feel honest, and neither wins.
The ending turns quieter. The garden holds more than grief, since memories and loyalty grow there too. The closing line, "I wonder what that says about me," sounds uncertain and a little self-doubting. The mood is raw and reflective, and the speaker seems unsure whether tending pain is a flaw or a form of love.