the vibe song for this story is “breaking up was easier in the 90’s” by sam hunt. hope y’all enjoy!
roses for the valentines days you said you hated. roses for the smile on your face when I handed them to you, in your favorite color, orange, and i would say, “i thought you hated valentines day.”
and you would reply, “i used to. You’re making me like it more.”
roses for the red.
the red we saw.
the red we felt.
the red that covered everything after you left.
tulips for the smile on your face,
the spring sun reflecting on your eyes,
eyes, green like the grass,
and the tulips, breaking through the april snow
snow you hated
hated, wished it wasn't there. why?
why? When the snow and sun sparkled
sparkled like glitter
sparkled like you.
daffodils for when we went into the fields
fields of daffodils, all smiling,
smiling, just like you,
just like the sun.
daffodils weighed down by snow.
you hated that.
you brushed them off, “nothing should be pushed down like that. that is why i hate snow.”
snow pushed down the daffodils.
i hate snow now, but not for that reason.
lavender, a phase it would seem.
lavender flowed through the diffuser
lavender decorated your walls
lavender sprigs in the snow
The snow you hate hated
lavender sticking up,
bees make me think of you.
carnations. They sat on your mothers kitchen table for weeks, unwilting.
you told me what i didn’t know about them.
they were grown, but they were white.
they were white, like snow
they were white until they were dyed hideous colors,
green, blue, red, pink. then
they were sprayed with smell
the same smell
blood red or white
either way, they
cosmos, a flower
you never saw.
cosmos, what a name, huh?
i would give you
all the cosmos
if i could.
lilac blooms in spring.
i think they were there, poking through the snow.
they saw you
when i couldn’t.
they protected you
but not very well.
hibiscus, what can i say?
you loved the tea.
You would hold your mug, with its chipped paint and faded words, and sip it as your hands flew across the keyboard.
“why do you write like you’re running out of time?” I asked one day.
“you said you didn’t like hamilton.” you said with a sly grin.
“you said you didn’t like valentines day.” i said right back.
i loved hamilton, but i would never tell you that. It would have meant you found something we both liked.
i wish...i wish i had told you the truth.
look, i’m crying.
i told you i could express emotion.
then you’re left in the dust, lest i stuck by yaaa!
you’re the sunflower! i think your love would be too much!
we sang in harmony
what is harmony?
so alike it’s scary?
that was us
you and me
but now its just
black eyed susan
black eyed susan for you.
you came to me.
why did i end up as the constant?
why not me?
it could have been any of us.
but you didn’t deserve it.
buttercup, your favorite.
when the snow was all gone
there would be the buttercups.
“i love these because when i see them, i know the winter, the snow, is all over.” you said with a smile.
pink lipstick. freckles.
that's not where you belong.
not under the buttercups.
above them, with me.
daisy. that’s who
oh god, the snow.
please, not the snow.
not the snow.
you never saw the next snow.
you never received my roses.
you never walked among the tulips.
you never stopped to smell the daffodils
or the carnations.
we painted over the lavender. we sprayed febreeze over the smell
of rancid flowers.
we planted the lilac this spring. you never got to see it.
we still sip hibiscus tea, the hibiscus tea your lips will never again touch.
i see the sunflowers, feel the beat. i think your love would be too much.
we planted new black eyed susans in the garden. you would have loved them.
i see the buttercups. i think of you every time.
i see daisies, and please no snow-
snow. you hated its existence.
the sun had just began to peak through the clouds after a storm. the water was slippery on the interstate.
hurt me instead of hurting her. was it
karma? for how much she hated it?
she hated the snow
for other reasons
but it's a good reason to hate something
if it kills you.
we put you under the buttercups on a saturday.
brown, i see it and can only think about
your hair, braided, up in a bun, fanned out around your head
i give a speech, but i don’t remember most of it.
it was something about flowers. your love for them.
why did we lose you?
why did you have to go?
i know it wasn’t your fault.
i would go back in time and let it be me if i had the choice.
they would rather have bright, bubbly you than me. i
was am nothing without you there.
you are an endless rainbow
a bright color on a rainy day.
but now as we stand in the spring rain
lowering you into dirt
there is no more color.
not for me, anyway.
black eyed susan
they will never have color without you to breathe life among them.
not even the dyed carnations.
the world looks the same since you left.
same grey pavement
same grey sky
everything is gray, because you brought color.
you brought color.