Never been better
Than the day i asked you
Not in person or in a letter
But with my special voodoo

You said yes
With love in your eyes
My heart exploded in a mess
I still remember that days sunrise

Awaiting the day
To see you walk the aisle
You said you'd wait for my birthday
I still have the biggest smile

No question in my mind
This is what fate wanted
Our hands intertwined
Never a day feeling daunted

tingles start from the back of my head,
when i think about her sweet kiss,
all is good when i see red,
now im flying in pure bliss.
she lifts my feet off the ground,
and fills me with paradise,
its just me and her around,
shes my guiltiest sacrifice.
soon i feel like i will drown,
and my body is fatigued,
i can feel im about to come down,
her soft touch has me so intrigued.
she ****** my arm once again,
im begging for her love,
waits to know she hit a vein,
so i can fly above.
but now im up too high,
my chests about to burst,
please lord hear my cry,
ive finally done my worst.
ive been long forgotten,
not a memory of me in sight,
my body lays rotten,
i didnt even put up a fight.
that needle had me enslaved,
nothing else ever mattered,
she was all i craved,
but she left me feeling shattered.

Do the flowers mourn when one is picked?
I know that question is kinda morbid and sick.
But I’ve always wondered if they somehow know,
Like for weddings and birthdays that it’s their time to go?

Do they feel sorry for lovestruck dames,
That pull off petals whilst saying their crushes’ names,
That pulled the last petal on “He loves me not”?
Do they feel bad that she’s distraught?

Do they compete on who’s the prettiest?
Each person has an opinion of which flower is the best,
Of their looks are they actually aware,
Do flowers even care?