bluebells bluebells are blooming deep within the green meadows and hazy sunlight. bluebells have bloomed deep within our hearts entwined like the two trees of Deirdrui and Naisi. the soil that blessed bluebells sprout from stain the skin underneath my fingernails. you brought me bluebells once- a fresh bouquet of bluebells every evening- and i think that they meant something more to you than they ever did to me, something you lost once, before you ever gained it. bluebells are blooming once again and i'm angry because i keep expecting things, expecting you to come to me at night with bluebells in your arms. i keep hearing your voice with every warm summer breeze that smells like bluebells. and oh, god, everytime i smell them i think of the future we could have had, the future that can now never be. they thought i went crazy when i gathered together all the old bluebells you had once gathered fresh for me and hung them like a dead animal in a butcher's store. momento mori. a remembrance of death but my remembrance of the life we could've led. the bluebells, a monument to our love. the smell of them evaporates anything else in the world except our love. i see how we used to be as our ghosts float around this place blissfully unaware of your future demise, only knowing the love of bluebells.