Written as a simple list, the poem shows how one person has crept into every corner of the speaker's days. Most items are ordinary school things: paper, pencils, notes, English and maths class, peer marking. Mixed in are more personal ones, like "My hand touching yours," "Me staring at you" and "Unintentional eye contact." The list suggests a crush, or perhaps a lost closeness, since "Last year" and "Trying to avoid each other" hint that something has changed between them.
The title adds to this. Throwing supermarket flowers from a windowsill sounds like an angry or heartbroken gesture, as if the speaker is trying to get rid of something that hurts. Yet the list shows how impossible that is when so many everyday objects carry the memory. Even "Asthma" and "The number 6" become reminders. The mood is quiet, wistful and a little awkward, and the plain, unpolished lines make the feeling seem honest. The last item, "Your name," lands like a small, final ache.