Poems: Aesthete

i wonder if she also presses flowers.

I wonder if you'll ever go through your book again. The one about hiking and survival. The one that I pressed flowers in after we went on a walk.

I wonder if you'll think of us that day. We were both scared of the spiderwebs and we both tripped over the tall grass. We smiled at the bees in the pasture, out of breath from the heat.

I wonder what you'll think. If you'll feel soft and nostalgic or if you'll feel angry at me. Will you feel anything at all?

I wonder if you'll do the same sweet things for her as you did me. Holding her hand while you talk to her. Telling her about whatever you're interested in at the moment. Calling her sweet things.

I wonder if you'll promise her things that you dont plan on doing.

I wonder if you miss me.

But most of all, I wonder if you'll even remember where they came from. If you'll even care. I wish I grabbed them before I left, because you certainly don't deserve to be happy. You do not get to think about me.