she is a wilting daffodil only lives a few weeks before losing all of her prior appeal
she is a fleeting thought
maybe for a moment she sounded like a good idea but it is better that I let her go

she is too much like my ex
angry and disrespectful and lazy in the bedroom

she tastes too much like my childhood traumas
the way my dad smells when he drinks too much
how my mother never says “I love you too”

she is not something beautiful
she is bitter and poisonous and she does not care how comfortable you are

or uncomfortable

her favorite flower is a daffodil
she thinks it’s romantic and tragic how they only live but so long

I bet she never guessed
you were so glad something could die so quickly

never guessed
you were so glad you let her go