(Published May 2021)
Gather up the bouquet
weeks wilted,
dried petals
crumble in my hands.
Each petal howls
out a memory
as it thunders
against the counter.
The weight of their love, a storm
brews upon their tongue
with agitation and the spark
of affection snaps
against my heart with angst.
They never knew
how to say I love you
without miles and miles
of stipulations:
I could only kiss them
on the cheek on even days
and on the odd days they would spend
ignoring my every breath.
A love story full of doom
and I know the ending.
It crumbles in my hand
wilted petals
tear apart my heart
Poetic Trials 