There is a vase sitting on my nightstand
filled with the crumbling remains
of what used to be
the most beautiful bouquet of snapdragons
I have ever seen.
It’s been there,
sitting next to the window
for months now,
melting in on itself
and today you finally asked me
why I hadn’t thrown it out yet.
Maybe it’s because
*I never want
to lose that moment
when you gave me those flowers
and told me
you’d never stop loving me.*
Maybe it’s because
*I never want
the piece of my soul
that melts at your touch
to become solid again.*
Maybe it’s because
*I want to
etch the way your eyes gleamed
with the hope of tomorrow
onto the inside of my eyelids.*
Maybe it’s because
*if you stopped loving me today
I could look into the soul
of those wilted flowers
and be reminded
of our love.*
But no one likes maybes
so I told you
I hadn’t had the chance yet