i got you a present
it's 3 roses of course
you always said they were your favourite flower
they reminded you of me
you told me that my name rang through your head
every time you even smelt one
you said that roses
suited me
while slotting one behind my ear
when we hugged you always said
my hair smelt of the delicate petals
i dyed my hair red for that
so your words could be true
but the petals have started to wilt
and my dye has started to fade
they're the same shade of brown now
just like the dirt on your grave
YOU ARE READING
to die would be an awfully big adventure
Poetryit may not look like it, but i'm okay i just miss you sometimes. {for the people who have had someone leave that they could never forget} (Completed)
