The purple is almost gone. 

Many of the petals have fallen.

I would have never noticed these trees if they weren’t in bloom.

Slowly, returning to camouflage; their simple shades of green.

Bloom receding, missed moments.

Chasing highs.

Chasing beauty.

Chasing some sort of fame. 

To feel important.

To feel like I mattered.

To feel as vibrant

as a jacaranda in bloom.