When He Left, He Took My Flowers

Sometimes we forget who we are because we're so wrapped up in being what we see. We forget to laugh out loud at corny jokes and how to love ourselves.

Shock

I remember sitting in my car in silence? No music, no breathing. I thought: how did I get here? How did I forget how to be me? I sat in the car for two hours. I tried to remember how to breathe, but couldn't because I only knew how to breathe when you were around; when they noticed you.

My face was starting to turn blue. Bottom eyelids smiled at you with purple teeth because I wanted to sleep, but forgot how to close my eyes. I was dreaming with my eyes open about things that I had no control over.

The sadness was setting in. My hands were moist from sweat; from my nails scrapping and stabbing at my palms. Rejection feels like you're trying to swallow a football. You think it's impossible, but when it happens your words stop coming out.

Denial

I don't want to tell anyone. They might confirm my fears. Maybe I was too clingy. Maybe my deep stares creeped him out. I try to think of ways to reel him back in, but then I question whether he was even in to begin with.

Anger

I've never been so angry. Your smile was nothing more than paint slathered across your face. Red nose on and flower pinned above your right shirt pocket. You were a joke. A puppet master with his fancy strings and awkward jerking motions. You made me dance to whatever beat you could think of.

Acceptance and Self-reflection

I'm sitting in this place where people are all around. I'm watching them. I notice how they walk, and how their eyes shift. They know I'm watching. I've moved on now. I see how they judge. They want to know what I'm looking at. But they don't know either. They're not breathing.