the last night we went out
you brought me white daisies.
they reminded me of when we met.
i left them on the counter,
and followed you to the car.
we came home- straight to my bedroom.
the next morning i tiptoed to the kitchen,
looking for you,
but instead i found the daisies all wilted and brown.
i thought you had the Midas touch of love,
but like the daisies,
i was dead the second you touched me.
*i wouldn't change a thing.