They put up a damn good fight Stronger than you did, after all They only had so much to give Before their curtain call

But there was no curtain Or tragedy to speak of There was you, only you Oh so careless with our love

You called it quits Quite out of the blue As if 6 years of my life Meant nothing to you

You've managed to kill us Leave scars I'll always carry And now all I have left Are dead roses to bury

Roses dont have to die , so carefully strung and hung upside down only to preserve the beauty just as dead roses when they're dry .

The roses you brought me are gorgeous, colorful and happpy. The roses you brought me are browning, slightly less alive. The roses you brought me are dying, falling off their stems. The roses you brought me are sad, so let’s go plant them.

When things seem sad, turn it around and make a sad memory happy. Life isn’t long enough to hang on to the things that hold you back. Keep going. Like my roses, keep growing.

The roses you brought me are growing, my garden’s becoming pink. The roses you brought me make me happy. Thank you 🩷

I perch myself on the wooden park bench, Musing on what time her approach is, Swallowing my nervousness, biting my lip, My perspiring hands gripping her roses.

It’s a beautiful, February day, The sun is blinding, love is in the earthy air, I hope that the scenery will cool me down, As I beg to the universe that everything will go alright in prayer.

It’s been a few minutes, Yet she hasn’t made an appearance, “It’s okay, maybe she’s running a bit late,” I tell myself as the roses’ red hue makes a subtle disappearance.

Is she alright? It’s been a while and she hasn’t been seen, Oh, shit- the roses don’t look so good, I really hope she’s here in fifteen…

So it’s been fifteen, And you guessed it; she’s nowhere, She shouldn’t take so long; she’s fetching regardless, Her dreamy, sky-blue eyes, her flowy, long hair..

Even after my long pause to daydream, she’s still not here, The annoyance in my chest slowly growing bigger, I just wanted to enjoy my time with her today, And give her the gift that’s now beginning to wither.

I’m really about to leave, It’s almost midday, The roses are tired of waiting too, They’re drooping, dulled, continuing to decay.

My jaw is clenching more and more by the second, Tears forming in my eyes, Her lack of arrival is really pissing me off, Why did she trick me and tell me lies?!

You know what- I’ve given up, God, I can’t take this anymore!, I’m going back home now, With her roses dead on the concrete floor.

(This might be kinda different from the prompt but it’s fine. Happy valentines!)

The roses you bought me are starting to droop. It’s the early hours of February 15th, you brought me them yesterday afternoon. I put them in my Nanas old vase, filled with water, almost immediately. They shouldn’t be dying yet. Maybe tomorrow, but not today. Less than 12 hours, and already they’re leaving.

The roses you bought me are wilting. The red petals are curling in on themselves, and I don’t know why. I changed the water. I added flower food. I cut the stems. But nothing is working.

The roses you bought me are withering away. The petals are changing colours. Many have decided to vacate into the water,. The leaves are turning brown. I touch them and they break into a million pieces. I don’t know why I care so much. I don’t know why these roses feel special.

The roses you bought me are decaying. You should be home by now. But you won’t answer your phone. You won’t answer your phone and I’m worried. The roses are decaying. I feel terrible. I have a terrible feeling. There are police at my door.

The roses you bought me are dead. When I arrived home I saw them dead. I got back from the hospital to more dead.

I scatter the dead roses on your grave.

Dead roses still have thorns; their scent still whispers your name. I’ve carried you in my pocket, reaching in to grasp you, as if you had never left.

Your memory is etched into my skin, burrowed deep, lingering for as long as I can remember.

I try to resurrect you, only to watch you crumble in my hands, reopening old wounds—

My mouth is full of copper, my nose filled with the stench of dead roses.

There’s no finality in the silence just an emptiness that expands with each passing day The love that once filled the corners of this place is now a distant hum a memory that no longer feels like it belongs here The world has moved on but this abandoned space remains—a quiet monument to the end of something beautiful, now lost in the passing of time.

I tossed the dead purple flowers in the trash today.

When I first got them they were so vibrant, they were still in the plastic wrap. I knew you got them from the grocery store because you didn’t even bother to take the price sticker off.

I couldn’t stand to look at them anymore.

Because last month I got pink roses for when you came home drunk at 4am and woke me up to the sound of our dog barking and you stumbling in the house.

And the month before that I got yellow marigolds with beautiful greenery after we got into that huge fight after a date night out.

And 3 months before that I got white roses, in a tall crystal vase with a card when I threatened to leave you.

I fucking hate flowers.

Pretty petals Full of romance Memories float In sweet fragrance Lovers dote Just like pretty petals Time is special

Time heals Time hurts One day they’re there Then fear the worst No time to spare Just like wounds time heals Time also steals

Pretty petals Wilting away Molded corners Shriveled days Full of mourners Just like dying petals Time was special

Time heals Time hurts It pains to see What’s in the dirt Wish it were me Just like wounds time deals From me, time steals

Withered petals Reminding me The missing space Where they should be Phantoms I chase Just like pretty petals Time, too, will settle

As she told him All the ways she’d like To be tied and hit

He flinched Like a little boy

The guilt welcomed him Sinking into his chest The familiar racing Only failed to console The mind of a guilty sadist