you used to make me paper flowers
never able to die
as loving as it was i wish they would have been real
they would have withered away and would not still be with me
the paper flowers still have a place by my bed
to pretty and delicate to let go of
but always like a sledgehammer to my heart
the thought that now you make them for her
i used to be special
now im just a memory
YOU ARE READING
I miss him
Poetryhere lies a chronicle of grief, sadness, and personal emotion i hope it might make someone feel less alone
