ten

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i started hating daffofils.

they were the only apologies i would ever get when we had fights, (which was almost every night now,) and now you were sending them to the house instead of handing them to me with a kiss, a 'sorry' against your lips.

sometimes i would follow you to work.

too often i saw you take a different route, ending up in front of an abandoned alley, sucking hickeys into someone else's skin.

why did we get married if you didn't even love me?

those days i rushed home with the most petals in my throat.

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