it rests against the sides of your crammed locker

you received it yesterday,
inexplicably handed to you by
an eye-lit boy with a crooked smile
and unwanted feelings
valentine's day, you thought
it's almost here, and he
thought he might grace you with it
it was shriveled, crushed,
ultimately decimated by some
unknown force, the petals
clinging to life although
failing miserably to hold on
hard enough
and your awkward, sheepish look
couldn't convey the
uneasy chortling cascading through
your chest

who would even want this?
"where'd you get that?"
you asked, aghast and fear-stricken
you didn't want to take it
if he'd just plucked it
from the dirt and mud
he couldn't have anyways
because there were no thorns
which ran down the stem
he rubbed his neck,
lowered his head,
mumbled,
"the store, i bought it
yesterday to bring to you,
but today" -- his head went lower --
"i kinda had to walk in the rain today
and i accidentally stepped on my shoelace
and toppled into a puddle,
this -- well, it flew from my hand
and people wanted to stomp
on it out of malice when they passed"

his clothes were wet, you noticed,
and his face was covered in droplets and grime
and the smile stretching like a
rainbow across his grody expression
ceased, fell down to the ground like he did
he let the rose fall from his hand
the distance between it and the floor like the grand canyon
but it hit the bottom in the end,
waited for you to stomp on it
and said when you didn't,
"sorry for wasting your time"
then turned around and walked away
you picked up the rose
lifted it in your fingers
and thought,
"i'll keep it till it gets better"

the next day, you looked inside your locker
and it was gone