on my bedroom dresser,
demise blooms from cracked petals and dried stems,
rubbing against a dusty glass vase. 

each flower once flourishing and loved--
only to be hung upside down,
and left to die in a dank closet. 
forgetting its loveliness. 
robbed of its beauty. 

the frivolous bouquet of un-growing flowers,

each bud, 
a shriveling memory of the momentous moments--
now fading in color.
but saved to remember the fleeting scent of joy.
it is necessary to remind a flower of its beauty
to retell it in words
and say that it is lovely
until it flowers again.

because she forgets
and drains herself trying to bloom for others.

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