Sentiments. //TW//

Flowers are symbolic, don’t you think?

Roses can mean love, adoring someone.

They can also mean death.

How stark.

Tulips mean life. Loving life.

Yet, they too mean death.

So, so many flowers have stark, almost bipolar meanings.

It’s jarring.

One could be carrying roses down the street, right past you, and you can assume

they’re going on a date.

Seeing the one they adore.

But in reality their mother has ed.

They’re bringing roses to her grave.

To tell her, no matter what, even through death, that they love her.

It’s a sentiment.

Yeah, they’re still bringing them to a loved one. They still symbolize love, adoration.

But a gruesome love.

A sad, null love.

Red chrysanthemums grow around your porch as you watch on-goers by.

They crawl up your legs along with forget-me-nots, and you’re too caught up in the thought of others lives to notice.

You watch the person who had the roses walk by.

They’re empty handed, tears staining their cheeks.

You don’t know them. You don’t know why they cry.

You’re prompted to cry, too.

So you sob. Your tears water the flowers growing up your body.

You don’t notice their harsh sting on your already scarred skin.

One day, you’ll away. One day someone will bring roses to you too.

✄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄

~Words; 219.

~Characters; 1,284.

~Pages; .9.

~Sentences; 30.

~Paragraphs; 28.

~Program(s); Notes, Word Counter, Amino.

~Time; 9 minutes.

~Image credit; Myself.

~#SlamClub1.

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