basket of roses
i picked for you
we traded flowers
but your basket
was full of dirty grass
and insects that stung my fingers
oh
and you ripped the rose petals
too
i watched you
tear each wing off
furiously
but i didn't move
because
i fucking loved you
YOU ARE READING
the morning after
Poetryand everything changes the morning after, right? // highest rank - #108 in poetry
