You gave me flowers to say you were sorry
again for breaking my heart.
I will tend to them and when they die
throw them out for a brand new start.
Tell me...
Does their beauty help blind you to the
bruise you left on my cheek?
Let me hide behind them so you will not see
the pain you so blatantly seek.
Does their scent mask the cheap perfume
left by the woman you had in our bed?
Let me set them there on the nightstand
so you will not be filled with dread.
Let me accept them once again--and water
them with my oceans of tears
I wonder how long I will let this to go on?
Gardens throughout the years...