Short writings, book one

stone covered in moss and weeds

200-tw suicide

The flowers wilt

they all do eventually
but it feels more personal when the dead petals fall and cover the name thats engraved onto the stone. they have no ill intent, its not their fault they fell.
the wind picks up and the wilted petals get slowly swept away as i watch.

new flowers come eventually, every year they are placed again then left to wilt. i appreciate them though, i always do. Its a simple gesture of giving me something pretty, and when i could, i liked flowers.
I thought they smelt very pretty, if thats possible.

Though my time has passed, and its been passed for a while. They no longer think of my note i imagine, they don't remember me past this time of year. A normal day wont involve me anymore.

I wasn't selfish, i just wanted to be heard.

but now my grave is the one with moss covering it, and no thoughts surrounding it.

maybe i am selfish though, i want them to grieve over me again, i dont wanna be forgotten until they die too.

but regardless of what i want, another grayed petal falls onto my stone.

remember ill always love you