T H I R T Y

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when he brought me pink roses i was confused
when he said,
"these pink roses reminded me of you"

i don't like the color pink

something about the color pink is
a bit off to me

it's warm,
sappy,
and snobby;
too feminine for my taste

but i kept those pink roses
and i placed them in an empty glass bottle

when our love started to die
the roses did too

i still kept them

when you were long gone
the roses were dead

but i still kept them

i stare at those pink roses every so often

some how he knew

pink was my favorite color
c.r

Melancholy ~ poems by Possessive PrincessWhere stories live. Discover now