To this day, flowers still make me feel uncomfortable
The sight of the split-level house with flowers overflowing in the entryway
never went away
The only way to get into the house was to pass by those flowers
Then you could go upstairs or downstairs
But no matter what
they followed you
I can’t remember my immediate reaction
I can’t remember a lot of things
I remember staring out the window
Sitting on the edge of the couch
Not speaking
I didn’t want to say a word
There were so many people
Too many people with too good of intentions
I didn’t want them there
When they weren’t touching my arm
Or sitting next to me telling me
“it’s okay”
I heard their whispers
About how I didn’t cry
And I wouldn’t speak
It’s been 10 years
I remember my older brother
Locking himself in his room
Crying
And crying
My baby brother that didn’t understand
With all the people he was in the mood for a party
There was food and friends and family
He was smarter than all of us
My mom
Couldn’t get herself together
I had never seen her like that
And I’d never see her whole again
That thanksgiving
I wasn’t thankful for much
I was thankful the funeral was finally over
Whether it was him in the coffin or not
And so we moved
And moved on
And started over
But it doesn’t really work like that
Maybe irony isn’t the word
But I find it ironic for her funeral to be
On the same day as his
Just a decade later
And I don’t want to go
I don’t want to watch
Anyone else I love
Be buried in the ground
I don’t want to sit in front of all the food people made
That no one wants to eat
I don’t want to see the flowers
Like the ones in my old house
Because I remember watching the flowers die
Like everything else
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 6:25 PM UTC
To this day, flowers still make me feel uncomfortable
The sight of the split-level house with flowers overflowing in the entryway
never went away
The only way to get into the house was to pass by those flowers
Then you could go upstairs or downstairs
But no matter what
they followed you
I can’t remember my immediate reaction
I can’t remember a lot of things
I remember staring out the window
Sitting on the edge of the couch
Not speaking
I didn’t want to say a word
There were so many people
Too many people with too good of intentions
I didn’t want them there
When they weren’t touching my arm
Or sitting next to me telling me
“it’s okay”
I heard their whispers
About how I didn’t cry
And I wouldn’t speak
It’s been 10 years
I remember my older brother
Locking himself in his room
Crying
And crying
My baby brother that didn’t understand
With all the people he was in the mood for a party
There was food and friends and family
He was smarter than all of us
My mom
Couldn’t get herself together
I had never seen her like that
And I’d never see her whole again
That thanksgiving
I wasn’t thankful for much
I was thankful the funeral was finally over
Whether it was him in the coffin or not
And so we moved
And moved on
And started over
But it doesn’t really work like that
Maybe irony isn’t the word
But I find it ironic for her funeral to be
On the same day as his
Just a decade later
And I don’t want to go
I don’t want to watch
Anyone else I love
Be buried in the ground
I don’t want to sit in front of all the food people made
That no one wants to eat
I don’t want to see the flowers
Like the ones in my old house
Because I remember watching the flowers die
Like everything else
