Page 72 of Poetry of Flowers

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that, look I’m sorry, please stop crying.”

“Play us something!” she yelled.

“What?”

“I’ll stop crying when you sing us a song.”

“Won’t happen, you little shit.”

“Mooom—!”

“Alright, what song do you want?” I cut her off.

Only four more hours.

Four more hours.

Sammy rubbed her tears away with the sleeves of her shirt. Children were so manipulative. My sister used to do this too when she was younger, thankfully it stopped when she was about eight.

“Can you sing one of your songs?”

I shook my head. “I don’t write songs.”

“Oh, he loves writing songs, mostly he sings what’s going on in his head,” Tillie told them.

“I hate you” I mouthed in her direction, but she grinned.

“I love you too” Tillie mouthed back.

I played a few chords to warm up. “Give me a word or phrase.”

“Bird!” Sean yelled.

“I write sad songs, if you don’t like them, it’s your problem,” I informed the two of them, who just nodded.

I started with some easy and light cords.

“Falling apart

He got to the heart of the matter and lingered

I will try to fix you

You and me a book full of light.”

The words just flew out of me, well, that was a lie because I had been working on this exact part for months now, but those kids just gave me a new idea.

“You forgot the bird!” Sammy told me while I tried to find the chords to the lyrics in mind.

“Hey, Blondie, stop cutting him off” Autumn warned her, making me hold back a laugh as I continued to play.

“I can’t look, but I can feel your heart

free as a bird in the light of the stars

hidden when the sunlight returns

Your heart, a wilting flower.“

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