chrysanthemums
You always loved reading
I was never one for it
You lent me one of your books
It still remains in my possession
You were my favourite book, you opened up to me so easily
Your cover was the most pulchritudinous
Little did I know your contents were valetudinous
That's the thing about books, the inscriptions aren't always as pretty as the cover
The words that filled your pages, I wanted nothing but to show you my assuages
I stare at your pictures for hours on end
Dreaming, fantasizing about holding you
Your spine was cracked, your blurb was ruined
You loved your books, but I wasn't apart of your library
Maybe you'd read the story on my grave, would you visit my cemetery?
Would you shed a single tear for me?
You knew that my favourite flowers we're chrysanthemums
If it were you, guilt would take over like exanthemas
I say all this like you'll still know me before I’m gone
Are all your memories of me still yet to have withdrawn?
I wish I closed your book when I had the chance
Maybe you'd not be here if I did, you left me in a trance
I wish it was harder for me to forgive everything you did to me
But I know at the end of the day, I'd take you back, you wouldn't, so why aren't you dead to me?
Copyright © Shay DOA | Year Posted 2024
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