best me Poems

Flowers
I always thought flowers were so beautiful, so gorgeous. The vibrant colors the beautiful shapes of the pedals, the fragrance, the uniqueness in everyone. No two flowers alike.
I always wanted to give you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, imagining us going on a nice date, and me presenting you with a dozen of those flowers that you desired and cherished so much.
I recently have had a change of heart though. Now with flowers sprouting out of my eyes, out of my skin, coughing them up with the red fluid, messing up the colors, messing up the scent. With them leaving me in ever-lasting pain. I had to finally realize you don't feel the same way, you are the maker of my disease in order to get better I must let you go before it kills me.
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Void
sitting facing my bedside table, setting the pill gently on the tip of my tongue before washing it down with cold water. allowing my throat to feel the cool wave wash over any existing dryness, allowing myself to relax. for my body, limp and pale to not be so tense and void of life, void of feelings, or wants and needs.
Just, void. I hated being an empty shell so I tried my best to use the pills to fill it, but in the end, they just spilled out.
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All my lonesome life, nose buried in a book tucked in a corner, I was always told to be intelligent, to be the best in my classes
to be a great student,
an obedient child.
I was none of those things, I was a small girl,
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