I only see carnations on caskets. They’re eerie and bright. The red ones remind me of the dress you wore to homecoming before the world crashed through you.

Saw your friends laugh for the last time and you vanished like a bolt of lightning after the strike- I can still smell the burn.

Always came home when the lights were low. Swore your scars were from walking through the thorns and we always pretended to believe you.

I remember everything- the way your hands turned blue when the cold crept in. Had a fever running up your spine and no one could fix it- but I still thank you for trying.

Watched you fix the carnations in your corsage- it matched your dress, it matched the wallpaper in my moms living room, it matched the color of your cheeks. Until one day it didn’t. And all I can think about are carnations on caskets.

-AMT ©️