The Gift That Broke the Box (a Wilted Flowers Birthday)
I sent her off with open palms,
A birthday wrapped in softened psalms,
To prove that trust, once cracked, could heal,
That our love could still be raw and real.
No leash, no watch, no doubting tone,
I stayed behind and stood alone.
It was her day, her trip, her sun,
And mine, a gesture to say, "We are one."
She'd slipped before in silent clicks,
In DMs spun like candied tricks.
But this was real, for her a getaway,
To wipe away old stains, start clean, and stay.
I drove her there after I paid the cost,
A gamble on what we had almost lost.
A test I thought that love would pass,
But trust is fragile, made of glass.
While candles burned and glasses clinked,
Another man replaced the ink.
Her name, this date, rewritten fast,
While I stayed loyal to the past.
The bed I made, she made her scene,
With breath not mine and hands unclean.
A birthday wish turned sadistic curse instead,
The weekend I gave her became my dread.
She blew the candles out on the cake, only for me to blow apart.
She kissed him warmly in his room and with it cooled my heart.
The irony of it all, in a cruel twist,
My trust of her was just a Judas kiss.
Now birthdays bleed into regret,
A date our souls won't soon forget.
Not just a lie, but where and when,
The gift I gave her was to lose my trust again.
So here's a toast with bitter grace,
To love that wore another face.
My trust betrayed in bold display,
The price then paid was in sending her away...
