the flowers; h.s.

day seven

I had a dream the night before.

I had a dream that he was here, that he was smiling, that he was near. I had a dream that he actually cared, not only for a moment, or so he shared. I had a dream that he never left, that he never went and found who's best. A person or a thing, I'll never know. But it will follow me until he shows.

And so I wander around this empty room and think of all the things that could have bloomed. If he had stayed we could have known what we had made but I am alone. For he is not here and he's not coming back.