I don’t even like flowers..
I feel like we have been arguing for hours
Going over the same stupid point
Here we are again debating on whether or not you hit that spot
You see you were so focused on what made other women hot
My wants and desires were neglected
The same tongue whose moisture gave me so much pleasure
Is now spouting words that make me question, why am I still here
The sex is no longer making me climax, the feelings are mismatched
And I can’t get my heart and my body to meet
I hate flowers..
They are constant reminders of how something so beautiful, can die
If it Is not tended to
No matter how much water you pour
Even if you change the dirt in the vase
The flowers will die, unable to be resuscitated
I prefer more thoughtful gifts
Ones that you made with your own hands or put lots of thought into
Not flowers…
Flowers were given after ever apology when you cheated
Flowers were placed at his grave
Flowers were given in every parade
Flowers were given when you wanted to celebrate an anniversary
Flowers are what were at the funeral when my dad passed away
I hate flowers…
You knew that though…you gave them to me anyway…
Don’t mind the smoke..
They are even beautiful when they burn
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