I'm So Exhausted

Flowers and Gravestones

I still leave flowers on your gravestone.

It calms me to watch them sway in the breeze.

Just like you calmed me when you were here.

I still leave flowers on your gravestone

Purple, red, and all shades of blue.
Blue was your favorite.

A butterfly once landed on your name carved in stone.
Where you lay

It was free to flutter and he happy

I guess you are too now

I still leave flowers on your gravestone, Joseph.

I still remember how your hair was getting long and i threatened to cut it myself.

I would have cut your hair for you but now all i cut are flowers that remind me of you.

I cut flowers like you and i cut ourselves. They eventually crinkle and rot into a shade of brown.

The color of your hair

I still put flowers on your gravestone.

They eventually die. just like you did.

If you think about it,

Flowers are a lot like people in a way.

Sometimes we loose our color,

We have a stem to clutch to when storms approach

But in a sense we are all drastically different.

We cut ourselves because we don't think we are beautiful but we cut flowers because we think they are...

You were not a flower like the rest of us,

you are a weed growing in my garden.

I can pull you from my garden of memories but your roots will remain.

But weeds are flowers too if you take the time to know them. I guess the tulips and roses didn't care to meet an shunned weed.

I am not an alcoholic
But i always get drunk on the thought of joining you.

I leave weeds on your gravestone, Joseph, because they remind me of you.