Drowning in Roses

Dry

And there they sat, those beautiful store bought roses, a red ribbon still bundling them together, withering on my countertop.

I sat and stared at them, dry and lifeless, my chin resting on my trembling fingers. It seemed that these past couple of days they have been shaking more and more violently. I jammed them into fists in attempt to stop it, but it didn’t do much good.

I felt as if I had stared at them any longer I might be able to see them slowly wilting away to brown nothingness, so I stood up and held them close to me, the thorns jabbing me. I moved swiftly to the trash and quickly opening the lid, I tossed them in, quickly shutting the lid again. I returned to my lonely chair in my dusty apartment and tossed my chin back into my trembling fingers, now staring at my vase, sitting rose less in the sill. The taunting blue daisies congratulated me at my knowing when to finally stop withering myself away.