Opus

no one hands me flowers

the college student simulation runs full steam. 

campus is bustling, my cardigan buttoned to my throat

to ward off boys with backwards baseball caps. 

it’s the sweetest day of the year, 

sorority girls with their bleach blonde hair and permasmiles 

giggle all cutesy, raining gifts from the heavens. 

no one gives me flowers.

 

i speed walked right past,

entered the house of God like there was something in me 

left to save 

when all I can think about is these flowers.

half-wilted hues of peach splashed across my physics pages,

rose spilling out of my mouth like the sorority flower-bearer

giving, giving, giving to everyone

except me. 

no one hands me flowers.

not a single one of the girls running a cross-campus charade,

not a single friendly face,

no one gives me flowers.

 

perhaps it’s more than flowers these days. 

my dad used to give me yellow roses.

he doesn’t give me flowers anymore,

and I wish someone would hand me flowers

but I really just wish someone cared enough 

to give me anything at all.

 

By Katelynn Paluch

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