He said I looked pretty with flowers in my hair
So I wore them to class, the store and everywhere
His smile lit up the dark thoughts of my mind
And told me I was beautiful, smart, and kind.
The flowers were never faded,
Colors were never gray,
Until that fateful day when it all went away
His smile wasn't for me
The colors became muddy, and the flowers fell out,
They didn't stay for just anybody.
I hope she makes you happy,
I hope she's always there,
But I hope I'm the only one who looked pretty with flowers in their hair.
Please don't think me selfish, but I cannot bear to share,
Because
He said I looked pretty with flowers in my hair.

She wore the broken locket, though it haunted her.
Its scorched backing a reminder of the fire,
The fire she had started.
The bloodstains marking the hands that clutched it as they banged against the door,
Until the front of it snapped off.
The melted chain a haunting message of just how destructive and hot flames could be.
She hated the locket with a passion few could possess without it overcoming them.
But she did not throw it away.
It was her burden to carry, to taunt her with nightmares of their screams,
Its weight threatening to crush her.
Still she wore it, her load never relieved
Until she lay dead on the battlefield,
Where it lay glittering at her throat.