I threw the flowers out
I got tired of watching them die and realizing that’s all they do
these things are here to die
for me to smile at and then mourn
More mourning than smiles
here I am; like these fucking flowers
someone will find us both here and have to dispose of the remains
what a fucking burden, an annoying task that I died to get away from
apologies to my mourners
what a pitiful way to go really
I sat with coffee in hand, day by day
watching the decay progress
seeing petals fall and making little piles of them to move somewhere else
letting a real nasty crust develop in the vase
that’s more like it
I hate these flowers
I am these fucking flowers
I wish I could curtain all the glass and turn out all the lights
in the dark, blind, we will rot here
this is my preference, my last will
A real testament to me and my nature
our nature, these weeds and I
we exist here to sit stagnant in the dark and let flies gather over our bodies once we’ve shuffled all this life off
I love these flowers
we’re doomed together, what a sweet thought
I should give them a real going away
before I shove them into a plastic bag full of coffee grounds
that lucky bag, what a special guest to have join versus the usual suspects
what an ugly thought














