Advice on Flower-Pressing

My room is a mess today 

It was this morning too,

And last night 

Some would call this abject apathy 

But today I walked in the warm sun 

And forgot pride 

I blew snot all over my shirt 

And cried so hard I could feel my chest finally loose 

Tonight my head is pounding 

But I’m pressing more flowers 

Sun-drying others 

And smelling the old ones 

Even after all this time,

Their smell hasn’t disappeared 

Bleached and fragile and soft-smelling 

And most of all, filled with love