When I first realized you were mine,
the day I told you I loved you and you echoed it back without hesitation,
I thought of a flower
because though our love was beautiful while it lasted
it was bound to die in the end.
Maybe I had already been addicted to caffeine and messy handwriting before I fell in love again,
but I can't say for certain that the latter wasn't a product of the first time I fell out.
If it is assumed that flowers are a metaphor for love,
then coffee and falling asleep are metaphors for my state of mind during our romance -
I needed to love and to feel loved, yet I couldn't have one without destroying the other.
So I chose you over the world and left my body behind,
but when my flower died
I woke up with nothing but remnants of myself.
YOU ARE READING
Average Wonders
RomanceWhat comes after love? What is one to do when every happy memory becomes past tense? This is a memoir to what used to be yet was taken for granted, and has since been lost yet was taken to heart. Written just as much for as by yours truly, this brie...
