don't forget me.

Bouquet.

Bouquet .

I like to imagine that each person has their own personal bouquet of flowers that they call their heart.

And I felt like maybe he had brought me his.

I always had believed that this was what I wanted. A set of flowers that maybe some day I could add to my own.

But it's becoming clear to me that I can't call his bouquet of flowers my home.

His thorns that poke at my delicate rose petals and the overpowering scent of his that mask my damage.

The way that he sucks all of the nutrients out of the pot of soil, leaving me malnourished.

The way that even still, I feel like I need him because without him, my bouquet won't be pretty anymore.

But someday, it will.