we weren't beautiful but you sure were

you were bending over the kitchen sink to look out the window and see the may flowers blooming and pollinating life around us, suffocating our breathing.

i was bending over the notebook that held your name a billion times in a billion different colors.
...
i don't even know why i'm alive and you're not;
i'm sorry that all of the fruit from our trees had to rot into a mess that we never called love.

i never loved you but i sure did care about you, even when we would fight over bittersweet endings and reminiscing mint leaves made up of syrupy sentences and purple lilacs.