Bittersweet Rosebuds

He told me last night, he was going back to her
That he had discussed with her the possibility of dating
And seeing if they could get a spark going again.
This is what he should do, this is what should happen,

Why does it hurt so damn much?

My perfume is barely dry on his pillowcases
I bet he hasn’t even changed them yet
The jewelry he bought me is in the suitcase I borrowed,
And sitting outside for him to take when he leaves.

He let me taste what having a family was.
He let me know his parents, his friends, his social circle
He bought me roses last week,
They are still on my kitchen table.

The water in the vase is cloudy, and the stems are decaying.
The bittersweet rosebuds hang their heads as if their necks are broken
Most of them never opened,
It was like they knew what was coming.

Why couldn’t I see it?

I tie the partially dried stalks with a ribbon
And hang them upside down on the back porch.
Then I dump the fetid water in the toilet,
And flush it down.

Like my hopes for a new Grandma and Grandpa for my kids
Like my hopes for a companion so like myself
Like my dreams of a way out of my lonely existence,
It swirls in the water and disappears.