flowers

Flowers are generally described as beautiful, scented little blossoms that supposedly cheer the receiving end. Yet some despise them. For what they're made for. What they look like. And the purpose they serve. I do not understand the concept behind handing someone a living thing that dies quickly. Its a general temporary spout of happiness yet millions yearn it from their lovers. Why?

Do they like the fact the lovers are giving them temporary happiness?
Why is it even considered "a sweet move" when they never last long enough.

And let's not even talk about how expensive they are at times

I never understood what they meant until I started getting them from a boy. I despised red roses for they symbolized a love so dark that died in the end.

White roses always brought the worst memories in my mind for when he died, I saw white roses everywhere
Desks
Chairs
Tables
Rooms
Churches

Everything reminded me of his death


Then this boy comes in and he actually bought roses. But different ones. I still remember when he interrupted me in the middle of my tutorial and bought me 3 pale pink roses, 2 sunset orange and 2 pale yellow roses. They looked beautiful

And when we stood at the doorway to my bungalow he handed them to me with a smile I remember being confused. What was I supposed to do with them? And when he handed me 2 lindtt chocolate bars in the other hand I remember smiling wide. Chocolate was the way to my heart. He knew that. And after kissing his cheek and letting him go, I remember looking at the roses in my hand.

They were bright and vibrant. Signaling the feelings he felt for me. And i was slightly awed by the sheer Perfection. Not a petal was out of place.

My dad took them from my hands and placed in one of the antique vases around the house. I remember checking on it every few hours to see if they were still alive.

And on the 3rd day they wilted



Even with my dad's utmost care and loving attention they withered away like a plant without rain. They turned brown and lifeless and fell everywhere around the floor, outside the vases, resembling a broken heart. The pieces left after the aftermath.

And i hated roses even more since then. I hated every type of flower since then. The temporary joy they brought was never meant to last.

Because happiness never lasts.


And maybe I hated them because they died. They died just as easily as humans did

And i was so tired of death

I am tired of death

I am tired of the fact that I carry a burden with me everywhere I go and no matter how hard I try to look at the most beautiful things in life I end up finding flaws and distance myself from it.

Just as I'm scared to fall in love again
And end up greeting deaths victorious face yet again


I'm so tired god

I'm so fucked up





-3A.M