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because
because right now its 12:42AM and i’m feeling like more of a root than a flower;
and I remember the one girl who asked why I always used plants in my poetry and I should’ve told her that I want to see myself as a flower- as a delicate, pretty specimen with potential to be so much more.
because lately i’ve been more wrapped up in your sheets of fire than in my own down covers and pillows.
and I can’t really lie about the pain because I know you can see it; so I’ll thank you for the oxy and get wrapped up again.
because when we were in college, the showers were never big enough for the both of us- not nearly as monumental.
and I remember loving you for the dishwashing system we had- you wash, I dry- and not for the diamond ring and vacations.
because now we don’t necessarily want the same things and when I come home from work I don’t really want to tell you about my day.
and i think you’re okay with that because you don’t ever ask.
because I’ve heard when you’re sick in the head, you’ll be the first in the bed.
and I was never the mental type, but no doubt was different.
because no one likes a smart girl,
so i’ll be dumb and you can pull my hair.
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I've never been admired, to my knowledge. And nowadays even I see myself as more of an object, too.