Flowers died on monday.

The sun didn't shine and the fish in the pond in her front yard swam around hasty.

Panicked.

Her cat lay by her side, taking shallow breaths, mimicking her last.

And the birds on her windowsill didn't sing.

They all knew.

They all knew the best person to walk this earth had died.

Only we didn't know yet, I didn't know.

I didn't know she suffered so much that no medicine in the world could make her want to experience this peaceful little life of hers anymore.

I didn't know this peace she created was the complete opposite of the war going on inside of her.

But god do I wish I had known.

I wish she knew I would go to war with her, battle her demons.

But maybe this was the point;

No one could do it for her.

No one could fight them, but her.

But even the strongest soldier has to rest one day.

And because she couldn't rest with their claws wrapped around her,

She pulled them off.

She saved herself in a way we are not supposed to understand.

I dont understand anything anymore.

It's like she took all of me with her that day.

My power, my knowledge, my humour, my hunger.

I don't recognize me anymore.

she made me me.

And I just know that, I stopped existing when she did

only my heart is still beating.


But isn't it crazy that flowers bought on sunday can be dead by monday?