Short Poem

Withered

I’m sending you a rose in the mail
Tenderly tucked between the pages of a long letter
It will die before it reaches you
But I thought you would appreciate the sentiment.

Your rose will go a minimum of three days with no water and no air
Deprived of the very elements it needs to live
I hope it finds you just where you should be
And maybe it will remind you of how you left me.

Status: Finding some routine.