Let my memory forever be etched upon your arm,
like an exquisite tattoo that tells our story.
As you gently brush away those tears that
bear the weight of our shared moments,
know that a part of them will forever remain
imprinted on your delicate skin.

The petals of the flowers have turned to dust,
leaving behind a bitter taste of ash that burns in my heart.
The words that once flowed freely from my tongue
now feel like coffins, trapping my thoughts and emotions inside.
It seems foolish to even speak about death
when it feels like it's already consuming me.

As I lay awake in the darkness of yet another sleepless night,
I realize that my callousness towards others
is nothing but a defense mechanism.
But in the end, I know that I'll just be a stranger
to them by tomorrow's rest.

I haven't exactly fallen head over heels,
but there's something about the sheer
beauty of flowers that captivates me.

In the dimly lit bathroom, I find solace in my tears.
It is here, hidden away from the world,
that I allow myself to release the pain that
weighs heavy on my heart.
The worn-out tile walls, with their rustic charm,
bear witness to my vulnerability.

As I stand before the mirror,
my reflection distorted by the cascading tears,
I realize that counting my tears has become an impossible task.
They flow freely, like a river that knows no bounds.
Each drop represents a moment of anguish,
a fragment of my soul that I have let go.

In the vast expanse of the sky,
where beauty knows no bounds, we pondered
the question of when our union would take place.
Our eyes, filled with the salt of the sea,
reflected the longing within our souls.
I, consumed by a solitary existence, carried
the weight of my worries in the depths of my gaze,
yearning for a wife whose name remained unknown.

In the depths of my loneliness, tears streamed
down my face, as remnants of a past self lingered behind.
Each word uttered was a testament to the pain I held within.
While others reveled in the joys of love, I stood alone,
a mere spectator at the end of my own journey.

I stood there, waiting for love to take its seat,
but found myself lost in the pit of my own heart.

The skies hung heavy and black,
casting a somber mood over the world below.
It was as if the heavens themselves were
burdened with the weight of yesterday's sorrows.
The fields, once vibrant and alive, now wore a grey smile,
a reflection of the tears shed in days gone by.

As night fell, the symphony of crickets filled the air,
their chorus echoing through the stillness.
It was a quiet night, interrupted only by the
gentle handover of the sun to the moon.
The air carried a pleasant scent of dew, a reminder
of the rest that awaited all living things.
And amidst it all, the tiny footsteps of rain danced
upon the asbestos roofing, a thief of nature sneaking
into the sounds of peace.

In the midst of this atmospheric symphony,
a wooden kitchen door ticked with the passage of time.
It creaked open and closed, its rusted iron hinges
adding to the melody.
The door seemed hinged in thought,
attached by fears and darkness.
It formed a latch, and night became its key,
locking away the light and welcoming the shadows.

As I stood there, my feet grew cold,
chilled by the ice-like glass of my fragile character.
A towel hung limply from the handle of the cupboard,
a silent witness to my dry mouth and the skeletons
of my past that haunted me, beyond my control.

But amidst the darkness, comfort found
its way to my side, persistently offering solace.
It was a visitor, never truly staying,
but always there when I needed it.
In my mind, I set up a spare room,
a sanctuary for fleeting moments of respite.
And in those rare moments, a sparing thought
would gently grace my mind, offering a glimmer of hope.

Yet, even in the midst of this fragile peace,
a shadow lurked behind me.
She knew my name, intimately aware of
the battles I fought within myself.
The empty room, once a sanctuary, grew heavy
with the weight of my inner demons.
Like a fallen angel, I descended into the depths
of my own despair, the falling rain mirroring
the tears that stained my soul.
And in a whisper, a secret was revealed in my ear:
depression, depression, depression.

And so, my depressing thoughts found me once again,
enveloping me in their suffocating embrace.
The world around me faded into the background
as I became lost in the labyrinth of my own mind.

In your eyes, a delicate pink hue danced,
Like a flower's tender blush, I had never seen,
Yet, I dared to kiss you, craving to understand,
To feel the enchantment that your lips could bring.

As time passed, you blossomed beyond that flowerpot,
Rooting yourself deep within the garden of my heart,
I nourished you with words of admiration and praise,
Expressing the immeasurable value you held, my art.

Your memory, a seed, lay dormant in my mind,
Buried in the depths of darkness, patiently awaiting,
Until the moment it would sprout and bloom,
Unveiling the love that within me was awakening.

I wasn't prepared to fall so deeply, so intensely,
A solitary florist, learning to tend to his own soul,
But with you, my love, I discovered a newfound purpose,
A garden of emotions, where our love would forever grow.