flowers in the backseat

Flowers in the backseat slowly dying beside empty bottles and fast food wrappers

Their petals curled inward like burnt fingertips reaching for vanished warmth

I drove through the city at 4 AM with nowhere holy left to go

Streetlights bleeding gold across the windshield like tired halos melting in rain

Bitch the car smelled like cigarettes, perfume, and emotional collapse

Like all the bad decisions from the past year trapped together inside moving metal

Her lipstick stain still lived on the passenger window

A ghost signature refusing to fade no matter how hard I cleaned

She left those flowers there after our last argument

White roses wrapped in cheap plastic and unspoken resentment

Said I never let anybody love me completely

Then slammed the door hard enough to make heaven flinch

Motherfucker I wanted to chase her

Wanted to scream apologies through the freezing parking lot

But pride sat heavy inside my chest like concrete scripture

And pain always disguises itself as ego before it reveals the loneliness underneath

So I just drove

Hands tight on the wheel like prayer without faith

Radio humming sad songs through broken speakers

Every lyric sounding suspiciously tailored to my exact destruction

The flowers leaned sideways every time I turned corners too fast

Like they were trying to escape the wreckage too

Dead things recognizing dead things

Silence understanding silence better than words ever could

I passed churches glowing softly against the dark skyline

Crosses floating above rooftops like surveillance cameras from another dimension

Somewhere inside those walls people probably prayed for redemption and stability

Meanwhile I kept speeding toward nowhere with grief riding shotgun

There’s something horrifying about driving alone after heartbreak

The whole city starts feeling theatrical

Traffic lights look symbolic

Billboards sound personal

Even strangers at gas stations seem like background characters in your emotional autopsy

I stopped near the river where couples usually park to pretend forever exists

Water black as spilled ink beneath the moonlight

Cold wind moving through my hoodie like invisible hands searching for a pulse

I lit a cigarette and watched smoke dissolve into the night sky

Fuck I remembered how she used to laugh in this same passenger seat

Feet on the dashboard despite my complaints

Singing wrong lyrics confidently while rain attacked the windows

Touching my arm gently whenever she sensed my mind drifting toward darker places

Now all that remained were flowers in the backseat

Wilting slowly beside empty energy drink cans and receipts from convenience stores

Love reduced to biodegradable evidence

Intimacy turning into clutter after enough disappointment

I think that’s what ruins people the most

Not betrayal

Not endings

But the ordinary leftovers afterward

The toothbrush still near the sink

The hoodie still carrying their scent

The flowers still dying quietly where they forgot them

Bitch I almost called her three times that night

Thumb hovering above her contact like a sinner outside confession booths

But what the fuck do you even say after too much damage

How do broken people rebuild trust when both hands still shaking from previous wars

The river moved slowly beneath the bridge

Dark water carrying reflections of city lights like souls drifting through purgatory

I wondered how many other lonely motherfuckers sat here before me

Smoking cigarettes and romanticizing their own emotional ruin

A cop car rolled past without stopping

Blue lights washing briefly across the dashboard like divine judgment

For one second my face looked unfamiliar in the rearview mirror

Older somehow

Sadder in ways sleep could never repair

I got back inside the car and stared at those flowers again

Petals soft as unfinished apologies

Stems bending under invisible exhaustion

Beautiful even while decaying

Maybe that’s why I couldn’t throw them away

Because they looked too much like us

Something once alive now surviving mostly through memory and stubbornness

Something rotting elegantly beneath dim lights and unresolved tension

The engine hummed low beneath me

A mechanical heartbeat refusing silence

I drove again through empty streets lined with liquor stores and sleepless apartment windows

Past addicts arguing softly outside convenience shops

Past taxis carrying strangers toward temporary affection

Past neon signs glowing like artificial salvation in the dark

And somewhere between red lights and midnight thoughts

I realized I had been grieving long before she actually left

Some relationships die quietly in fragments

One ignored feeling at a time

One exhausted conversation at a time

One lonely silence stretched too far across the bed

By sunrise the flowers looked even paler

Morning light exposing every bruise hidden by darkness

I parked outside my building and just sat there listening to the engine cool down

Hands numb

Eyes burning

Soul exhausted beyond language

Then I grabbed the flowers carefully

Held them against my chest like fragile scripture

And carried them upstairs

Not because they were still alive

But because some dead things still deserve tenderness