You didn’t buy the flowers.
Yes, you made reservations.
And complimented my beauty.
Held my hand,
And opened doors.
But surely you didn’t like me.
Surely you didn’t mean it.
Because…
You didn’t buy me flowers.
Yes, the gesture is small,
But yet…
You dropped the ball.
And now I contemplate it all
Because surely,
You don’t value me
At the level that I deserve.
Because, well…
You didn’t buy me flowers.
And it’s unfortunate…
For you.
Discerningly yours,
Analise
If my words have lingered with you, or you feel compelled to leave a note—or a rose of appreciation—you may reach me here.
Thank you for reading, and for crossing into The Diary of Analise Devereaux.


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