She called him her cherry because of his bright cheeks- and he called her his daylily (she wasn't sure why, but she liked it)
He was patient and protective and liked the way her socks never matched and the way she ate muffins (upside-down)
She was impatient and prideful but she liked the way he read (eyebrows furrowed furiously) and his squinting, laughing eyes.
They were always having small fights and once she heard her pride say- "I'll never talk to you again." she never thought his eyes could look so sad when he slowly nodded at her she wanted to scream.
Her life continued as years passed and she met a boy she grew to love but who never quite understood why she ate muffins the way she did.
One day, as she was packing preparing to move across the country she found a dried, wilted daylily and she cried herself to sleep that night, hating herself wondering if he ever felt the same of cherries.
Any comments greatly appreciated, especially suggestions - no poem is perfect. Thanks for reading. (: