I Got You These Flowers But They Died, By Donald Trump
May 09, 2018
I’m sorry. So so sorry.
I love you. I bought you these flowers. You, yes you, make it all worthwhile for me.
Fresh roses really brighten up a room, don’t they? I wanted to brighten up your room. I wanted to brighten you. Will you let me brighten your body with my flowers?
I cut these roses as a tribute of my love for you. I killed them. I killed these roses just for you.
I waited a long time to say I love you. They rotted as I waited. Now I offer you their noxious and moldering corpses. I love you.
Oh how I danced as I sprinkled the rancid bouquet across the gravestones for us. I made you a path of purulent petals for you to glide along in your grace. Along my once-red carpet of desiccation. Please take my hand as I escort you down my aisle of death.
She loves me not. She loves me not.
What naughty boy I’ve been. I’m so sorry. So so sorry.
I just want you to love me. With your body. Will you forgive me with your body? Your body is like a rose. I want to score your body like a rose.
Who will love me now? Will you? Will you, yes you?