Dear Gorgeous Flowers that know no better

You were handed over with the best of intentions, only the best ever for you with promises of friendship and love to come. You bloom away, unbeknown to the goings on of the world, lasting weeks, potentially months.

Yet your giver, the messenger of that initial whisper of sweet words has changed his mind. He no longer feels the same. Yet your blooming away in that vase at the epicentre of my apartment. How do you not know any better, that it hurts that you have outlived this mere romance. Are you meant to wilt away with the momento of his words. Do you see my tears?

I can hide but not forever. He has hurt me. I have done nothing.