You cannot leave. Not now, when I need you the most. How can you do this? Why would you do this? I need you to stay. You add colour to the greying and dull balcony. You add colour to my life. Without you, the balcony will merely be a meaningless empty space of fresh morose air. Or freshly polluted morose air. You make the pollution seem less deadly. Less dark. For a moment I forget about the bitter reality of our cold and poisonous world. No, you cannot leave. The water will miss the leafy taste of your existence. And the pots, the pots, the pots will lie bare with nothing to shelter. No, no, no. You cannot leave. Not now.