a wilting leaf- once green and lively, now brown and brittle- *chose to stay*, **waiting for the sun** to feel like love again. every day, I wait here in the same deep shade, **watching for a sign** —a sliver, a glance, any proof. the sun must sense this. But the sun has its nature: it is not for everybody, and it cannot shine on what it cannot see. I was given the choice: to let go, to be carried toward a different light. But *I chose to stay*, and feel my roots grow deeper into this dark earth— each one a chain, a reason I cannot leave, anchoring me to this wilted hope.