He gave me dead flowers
So I can smell them every day
The rotten petals falling
The color of decay

The washed out sunflower
The dehydrated leaves
The mold on the water
The color of debris

The richly red rose
Now drooping to the floor
The color of love
Existed no more

But still I saved the flowers
And smelled them every day
And watered them with tears
To let them grow again.

I write not for my arts sake...
I write for my hearts ache...

I write not to remind myself...
I write to re-mind myself...

We grow and we grow
Till there’s no place to go
Living our life
In the eternal flow

But why did we come
If we don’t get to stay?
What is the point
If it’s taken away?

And what does it mean
If it’s all just for nothing?
What is, simply isn’t
If it’s not all for something

You gave me this life
Just to feel less alive
If the purpose i live for
Is only to die

i am a hopeless romantic
with suicidal antics
that cant seem to love herself

she cant seem to nudge herself
out of depressive episodes
but she has expressive goals
to fall in love

to call on love
for several favors
and she has several wagers
that "this one will be 'the one'"
that what ever is done
can be undone
and that she will be okay
because one day love will fix it all

she is a pathetic romantic
with an optimistic aesthetic
and a manic
personality