Her laugh made flowers bloom,
popping out of the soil and making my heart grow enough
to where my doctor told me I had a preexisting condition of loving you.
He couldn’t fix me, so he took me to a mechanic to see if I was broken,
If too many screws got loose,
If maybe my problems were caused by me afraid to lose you,
So he twisted me apart, unscrewed me part by part,
But the only thing he found were rusted windshield wipers and hydrangeas on my dashboard.
I told him every time it rained,
I opened my sunroof and let cold drops hit me through my hoodie,
Every time I saw that flower,
I’d take it petal by petal and spread it across the dashboard
so you could always be with me, no matter how far I go.