I have a wilted, dead flower in my room, to remind me of our love that died.
The falling petals remind me of sweet kisses you once bestowed upon me.
The breaking stem means the lines that connected us are now disappearing.
The unkept water shows me how my mind was not clear at the time.
The darkening colors tell me you are slowly leaving my mind, my heart and my soul.
The new blossom reminds me of you, telling me the new one will just die like the rest.
The colors will always fade, the petals will always fall, and there is always going to be a new blossom.
Trying to mend me into my old self but they will all make me into something new, so I take the wilted, dead flower, and the new blossom, and throw them out.
This is me without you.