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Flowers remind me of death My father clutching a pathetic handful of convenience store bouquet flowers Jack and desperation in his voice begging my mother- the woman he beat and walked out on to raise three traumatized children alone- to take him back Alcohol convincing him that she was the true love of his life His sun bronzed hands grasping at hope long since murdered brought flowers to the funeral of their relationship Flowers remind me of death Your smile and laugh silenced too soon Your whole amazing being shoved into a box Entombed six feet below my world’s surface Overly sweet petals prettily masking the decay in my heart caused by losing you Flowers in all their beauty remind me of death
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Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 4:30 PM UTC
I'm Not The Flower Type
Flowers remind me of death My father clutching a pathetic handful of convenience store bouquet flowers Jack and desperation in his voice begging my mother- the woman he beat and walked out on to raise three traumatized children alone- to take him back Alcohol convincing him that she was the true love of his life His sun bronzed hands grasping at hope long since murdered brought flowers to the funeral of their relationship Flowers remind me of death Your smile and laugh silenced too soon Your whole amazing being shoved into a box Entombed six feet below my world’s surface Overly sweet petals prettily masking the decay in my heart caused by losing you Flowers in all their beauty remind me of death
WrittenTherapy
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Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 4:30 PM UTC
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