a wilted
flower
bows on
my nightstand
paying homage
to your absence.
its water turned
murky and green,
its smell is
excruciating.
yet i refuse to
discard it.
i know
it’s as dead
as our love
but i won’t
throw it away
like you did
to me.
When the child was young, they thought she was developmentally delayed and brought her to see child psychologists who gave the parents no hope. Then the parents left her alone to do her own explorations in the woods. At the age of 8 years, she suddenly flowered with a discussion on the variety and types of plants in the garden and her theory of calculus.
I love petunia flowers, I also love sunflowers because they remind me of a type of carefree happiness that I had in my childhood. Roses are my favorite flowers because they remind me of my Mom which makes me smile.
If there’s one flower that offends me more than the rest, it’s the lily. I am not often given flowers, and yet, a lily will always make its way inside. Sorry for your loss, they say, sending bouquets of the ostentations stinking flowers to my door. White heads crowing open proudly, too proud. They are perfect. Too perfect. Streaks of pink in too wide mouths. Cat killers. They are the trumpeters of death and grief.
The flower opens, petals slowly furling out, delicate blossom carrying all the future in colors and softness and fragrance.
a wilted
flower
bows on
my nightstand
paying homage
to your absence.
its water turned
murky and green,
its smell is
excruciating.
yet i refuse to
discard it.
i know
it’s as dead
as our love
but i won’t
throw it away
like you did
to me.
When the child was young, they thought she was developmentally delayed and brought her to see child psychologists who gave the parents no hope. Then the parents left her alone to do her own explorations in the woods. At the age of 8 years, she suddenly flowered with a discussion on the variety and types of plants in the garden and her theory of calculus.
I love petunia flowers, I also love sunflowers because they remind me of a type of carefree happiness that I had in my childhood. Roses are my favorite flowers because they remind me of my Mom which makes me smile.
If there’s one flower that offends me more than the rest, it’s the lily. I am not often given flowers, and yet, a lily will always make its way inside. Sorry for your loss, they say, sending bouquets of the ostentations stinking flowers to my door. White heads crowing open proudly, too proud. They are perfect. Too perfect. Streaks of pink in too wide mouths. Cat killers. They are the trumpeters of death and grief.