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An Open Letter to Pollen

Pictured+is+Morgan+Crosby%2C+expressing+her+disdain+for+all+things+pollen.
Pictured is Morgan Crosby, expressing her disdain for all things pollen.

Pictured is Morgan Crosby, expressing her disdain for all things pollen.

Nataya Foss

Nataya Foss

Pictured is Morgan Crosby, expressing her disdain for all things pollen.

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Dear Pollen,

I wish I could say that this is a hard letter for me to write. That I have struggled to find the words to say what I need to. But that would be a lie. Because I have many choice words I could use to tell you this.

We are finished.

This toxic and ugly relationship we have must come to an end. I cannot continue pretending what we have is anything less than painful. You have been selfish to keep me for so long. Holding me back from all I could be doing.

First off I would like to say I cannot keep waiting for you to show up only every once and awhile. These springtime “relations” we have must end. And on another note, you ruined flowers for me. Flowers. You bastard.

Cherry blossoms: do not bring me the joy they bring everyone else. I flinch whenever I see them. Even as tattoos. That’s how much you screwed me up.

This abusive relationship has caused me to fear the tulips my mom brought over. They reminded me of you and I had to resist the urge to Batista them to the kitchen floor.

Nataya Foss
Morgan Crosby angrily kicking purple rhododendrons.

Crocus are not cute anymore. They are just like little evil spirits reaching for my ankles as I pass…and I want to step on them.

Daffodils? I think you mean poison filled shot glasses laying sideways so as to maintain eye contact with me when I drive by. I want to chop off their cocky stems with a machete made of Claritin.

Lilies? Forget about it. They are the mean girls of flowers. I look at them, feel ugly in comparison, and realize I still end up wanting them to think I’m cool. But enough about flowers.

The constant infliction of pain my inner sinuses feel when you are around can only be described as this: vindictive elves skating around on blades made of angry jalapenos spraying offensive things in spray paint. I wake up every morning with this inflicted upon me mercilessly.

I am officially canceling my subscription to this relationship and all of the issues it has brought me. Yeah,

you get to deal with how overused that line is. Because it’s how I feel. Used and underappreciated.

 

Sincerely,

Morgan “The Congested Pleb” Crosby

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An Open Letter to Pollen