I bought myself flowers today.
Orange roses
and a Sunflower -
my favorite kind currently.
They're in the living room
where I can see them
every single day and
remind myself that someone
wants me.
Even if that someone is just me.
I've mentioned flowers recently.
I asked you what color
and kind I should get.
You asked me what kind
I wanted.
It was like you were offering
to get them for me
instead of a gesture I have to
hand myself.
But had you had gotten them,
after I had already picked them
out at the store,
they would've wilted in my hands.
The thorns would've torn open
my skin, and the petals would
have fallen slowly to the ground.
"Does he love me?"
"Does he love me not?"
One by one the petals fall.
He loves me not,
but that's okay.
At least I have orange Roses.
