A Lethal Dose of Marigold

My marigold, she’s dead. The love of my life, soulmate, and my reason of living in this god forsaken world, is gone. My baby, my love, my marigold left me so soon, yet I feel like I watched her die for centuries. I watched and did nothing to help her because it was too late. She was all I had and now I have nothing. Like a simple math problem impossible to misconstrue. I am empty.

I am empty. Only a week ago, my marigold was by my side. Binging episodes for hours at a time or making cookies at midnight. The many fun nights simply reduced to my memories. Even our poor cats scratch at the door, waiting for my marigold. She’d always bring him home fish scraps from the boardwalk. I never even got to cook, and I always made her do it. I regret it now because I know nothing of her intricate recipes, and I am hungry.

I am hungry. I miss the insane amount of space she’d take up in my bed. Her side now colder than ever, never to be filled the same. I miss her embraces with her thin arms that held me tight. Her grasps strong like a primal love, but she fit perfectly in my arms like she was made for me. I miss the feel of her gold hair, so soft and smelling of cinnamon. I am hungry for her presence, now incredibly starving for my marigold. She even forgave my clumsiness; she always forgave me.

She always forgave me. I was always making mistakes, but she didn’t mind. One time I gave Lucy Meyer food poisoning, but she forgave me. Even worse, one time I accidentally killed the Elmer’s dog, but she forgave me. After it all, we went to the movies and ate popcorn with bits of hotdog scattered in it. She loved me beside my clumsiness, and for that I’ll forever be grateful. Even our love story was an accident, but she was my favorite accident.

She was my favorite accident. She was there, and I was there in that flower field. A college trip for a Floriculture and Nature Passion class was what brought her out there that fateful day. I’d been hiking in the local forest, and I’d been missing for three days. My marigold spotted me on the forest line and approached me with a marigold in hand. She handed it to me despite a fragile stature and a bloody arm. I was infatuated with her from that day on. Granted she never knew of why I was there, but our accidental meeting was a purposeful new beginning for me.

It was a purposeful new beginning for me. Now looking back, how was I to know what I know now? With many other variables, I had no idea the outcome of my actions would result in something so catastrophic. Nevertheless, I chose to look to brighter things like my marigold’s brown eyes so beautifully honey toned. I adored the way she would dance the Charleston whenever we went clubbing and how she would always order the fruitiest drink they had available. My marigold is gone though, so there’s no forgiveness left for me.

There’s no forgiveness left for me. I’ll never have her to forgive me for what I’ve done. She was my peace and consciousness that relieved my mind. Burdened to be in a loop of guilt for my trespasses against my marigold. I love my marigold more than anything. How was I to know a gram of Cyanide would be a lethal dose?