The very moment I dropped my last bit of emotion
I felt your presence with the smell of flowers and home.
You offered me roses,
The flower I adored the most.
Judging the magnitude of the aura created,
Afraid to move an inch towards you
To feel your warmth on my skin,
I looked at my palms lodged with thorns and blood spots
And I looked at your posture so surreal and cozy.
The flowers you held for me
Had promises of honesty,
And kisses of melting goodness and trust.
Your smile full of gratitude and hope
Had better plans for sunsets and electric hugs for every bad day.
I wanted to jump on the opportunity of having a place called home,
Where I would be served the wine of love,
And hearty meals of satisfaction and togetherness.
But my hands were injured with blood oozing out of the wounds
And burns blackening your beautiful face to my eyes.
I called out your name,
Whispers tearing out of the box as shouts.
I called for you to calm me
To hold me and brush your fingers against my trembling skin
And tell me that things were gonna be okay…
But you were gone already.
Your flowers crushed and suppressed by the dirty possession of the dumpster,
And sound of your footstep losing to the noise of the busy street.