My flower,
The first time we met,
We disliked each other with a passion.
With every step,
We made a way to throw insults at each other.
I enjoyed getting you flustered and frustrated,
Your dislike towards me humored me,
Even if I never understood why you gave me the stink eye.
Although we were at each other's throats on a daily,
The care that runs deep in our blood cannot bear the idea of the other getting hurt.
When I got my heart broken,
You consoled me.
When you broke up with your highschool sweetheart,
I took you on a long drive and pampered you with food to your heart's content.
The first time we met,
You were 15,
I was 16.
And with each passing year, we humored ourselves with dislike,
Ignoring our beating hearts that yearned for the other.
-forever-
YOU ARE READING
my love, my flower
PoetryThe world just goes on about; minding the angst that spurs in others. I looked at my lover, as her soul leaves her physical being. Now, I search for my flower in the memories plastered deep in my head. And like a madman, I jotted down every memory t...
