We share one garden,
watering the plants together.
But you stopped,
left me in the garden, alone,
to water it on my own.
And I did— I watered the plant.
But when I got tired and stopped, just like you,
you came back and blamed me.
The plants were gone, and the place turned into a lifeless desert—
like our relationship.
You left me,
and want me to chase you,
so you can blame me again.