On the day she gave it to me
it was a gift
nestled in rustling tissue paper in my favourite shade of blue.
But it was the card which brought tears to my eyes;
a loving message of friendship and memories to come, pressed rose petals
and a colourful pencil drawing – a beautiful birthday surprise.
After a week
it was a symbol
of our friendship, a smile pinned up on my bedroom wall,
a patch of warmth and life against the faded lilac wall.
I wanted the world to see and know.
The whole room seemed so much brighter, and I stood tall.
After a month
it was a reminder,
painful to look at, bittersweet memories filling my mouth like bile.
I couldn’t regurgitate them out, haunting me they stay.
I kept it hidden away like a painful memory at the back of my mind.
Yet I couldn’t yet bring myself to throw it away.
After six months
it was forgotten.
Fallen behind furniture with paperclips, and never-finished homework.
Covered by a thin film of dust, a card which once meant so much.
The rose petals lie dry and colourless on the floor.
Like life, they are fragile to the touch.
After a year
it was a piece of card
I found when clearing out my room. I glanced –
it went straight into the bin, along with that top I no longer wore.
Meaningless – a childish doodle on crumpled paper.
Just that, nothing more.