I pull the pink flowers

From the mass of black hair

And they fall to my hands

As I release a breath



                                                                              

I shrug off your shining words

And the glow of your eyes

As I shut myself away

Again, the world

In the deadness of mine



                                                                                            

It's hard to believe in

Anything

When nothing and

No one ever stays

I am always left dark and gray

Or brown at the edges and

Fading, crushed



                                                                  

Like the flowers in the palm of my hands