The Blooms

 I bought myself flowers through sadness

Or sadness through flowers, I could not tell

but with the hope that their blooms would lift lift lift me up away from the dirt the rot the human disappointment.

I often dream of those spring walks with you when I would pluck flowers from the ground, sprinkling earth from its roots, velvet petals against my nose, my cheeks,

but my nails would dig into their stems, your flesh, as I clung to you both,

And you,

Always there with a smile and a no.

4 thoughts on “The Blooms

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