What will I do with the flowers you left ?
What will I do with the flowers you left
now the windows have stopped shaking ?
I punched the dimple from your cushion
with a soothing smoothing
Pushing my fist deep into the muddy well of
my soul I grabbed that last shred of dignity and
held on for dear life
while you sat there
waiting for me to respond –
to pierce that void
Oh, we fell, I fell, how we fell
Oh, how we fell
I’ll never know now
So, what will I do with the flowers you left?
I should, of course, recycle
so you could turn up somewhere new –
radiant and proud
in someone else’s garden
What will I do,
with the flowers you left?
Brown withered stems,
love’s limp livery,
slumping their rebellion
against all I hold so dear
They’ll go, the way things do,
of all we once had