Plucked

I am the daisy whose petals you plucked off in a misguided attempt to determine whether or not the schmuck who hasn’t called you a week after your first date — during which he didn’t comment on let alone compliment you on the outfit you spent hours deliberating with your girlfriends and didn’t even suggest dessert after dinner and used his tongue on your cheek when you averted your face in your lobby and declined his offer to come upstairs — loves you or not. For this you plucked me from the earth, robbing me of my life? I love you not!