Flowers.

Flowers. By Anuoluwapo Kehinde

Teeny tiny pieces of me break as you all die and fade away

Little bits and bobs of love shatter into caskets

Buried by the small glasses of love moulded into coffins

Layered in mini petals of grief

I hate death for this.

Flowers don’t look the same when their petals fall.

My heart was filled with love before you died

It reduced the moment they called…

“Call it”

“Time of death: 8:59pm”

And death like the piped piper called you home

Too soon

Too soon, I forgot your love, your warmth, your face as well

Too soon you were gone and I was alone

Too soon my heart filled with love decreased

My ability to love the same way,

No longer a concept I want to entertain

I still think of you every day

Every year that goes by

My teeny tiny self loving you like nobody else

My thoughts in bits and bobs, fragmented

Grief an emotion I’ve learnt to bury 6ft under with you.

Flowers don’t look the same when their petals fall.

Published by AnuMaryBlogs

The purpose of this blog is to journey through the abstract and creative nature of my mind. It serves as a safe space for me to air out my thoughts and ideas, without judgement. Have fun on this adventure... x

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