The speaker imagines being a flower in someone else's hands, picked for the old game of "loves me, loves me not." It's a small, familiar childhood ritual, but here it stings. The person doing the picking only goes "through the motions," which suggests they were never really invested in the answer. The game is a pretense, and the speaker is the one who gets pulled apart for it.
The cruelest moment comes at the end. When the last petal falls, the other person "decided" they didn't care. That word matters: the game is supposed to reveal an answer by chance, but this person simply makes a choice, and the flower's fate hardly matters to them. The speaker comes across as hurt, resigned, and quietly bitter, left feeling used and powerless. The tone is short, plain, and understated, which makes the sadness feel sharper. The title's "Loves me not" confirms the outcome before we even begin.