The sun cries.
Lonely in the sky,
where birds fly- they pay no attention.
Clouds roll by, fading.
Sunflowers fighting for warmth- using him,
only to close back up at night.

Listening to the soundtrack that the rain is playing,
I want to be beside you.
Yet, here we are in two different towns,
in two different beds loving from afar.

Simply, a flower cannot blossom without sunlight and water.
So be resourceful, make decisions for yourself, and plan how and when you want to bloom.
And who you want beside you when you do.

Leave your garden, and come live in my heart.

I love you, even though at times you are the **** in my garden.

She grew into the moon, becoming the women she was destined to be.
Bright, beautiful, and independently alone up in the sky.

I love watching Spring bloom in the reflection of your eyes.

Please,
when you’re planting yourself in someone’s heart, make sure that there is enough sun to begin with, before you start.

My tears can no longer seek home in my eyes,
They refuge to the mainland- flooding and filling every crevice- they take away life.
Toxic and hot,
They spurt out as if they are small spits of lava.
I cause pain and devastation,
I **** nature.

My favourite thing about the sun and you is that you both hold warmth that I crave for.

On days filled with a yellow and orange fire sky, I find comfort laying next to you in the late afternoons.

My favourite colour arrives at sunset.
Warm glows of orange and yellows,
a blend of gold.

Can I be yellow and full of large petals and sun like you???

The flower wilts,
Tired, sad, dead.
With the scorching sun and it's burning blaze,
You cry.
It's white hair of age has seen it all,
but it never expected that it's own petals would fall.
They fall surrounding the burning ground,
Once was it fluffy and luscious green,
Once had it fulfilled every flower's dream.
Once did it hold events where teenagers would lay,
Where children would play,
Where kites were thrown into the sky.
Once did the flower wish it were a dream.
A wish for a world that wasn't so catastrophically destroyed.

You can be a small flower in life.
You may struggle to bloom.
To settle your roots.
To have the perfect position for the sunshine.
What you really need to do is **** your garden.
Your field.
Then, and only then, open your petals as wide and beautiful that they can go.
And just bloom.
Sometimes all we need is to empty those holding us back, only then in order to rise.
To rise to the sun.

All the nights without you, is like a flower at night missing their sun.

Imagine yourself in the soil... that’s where you start, where you’re born.
After you must grow, blossom and bloom, then wilt.
This is your life, each day something new. First you must learn to survive before you start.

Flowers and pain, a down- pour of rain.
Coffee in a cup, far too hot.
Reds and blues and greens, fields of flowers creating a colourful scene.

Waiting for the sun among the flowers

We draw and come closer on grey rainy days. There is something about the comfortability and serenity in listening to the rain, while laying with the one you love.

I want to plunge myself into the sun.
I just want to know what his comfort is like.

You are my sun,
so keep setting only to rise back to me in the morning.

All yellow. All beautiful. All sprung. Blooming.
Yellow mania.
Fields of Kings.
Sunflowers, let’s let Autumn do it’s thing.

Soft iris.
Lilacs in your eyes,
You use this to your disguise.

Tend the flowers in your heart.
Mend them.
Give them time to sow.
Allow them to grow.

When you become old,
grey and withered;
I’d still display you in a vase.

Fall in to where it can begin.
Moon phase,
Orchid days.

Sweet bliss,
Wanting nothing more than to try your American kiss.

Heatwave.
Scorching skies,
White clouds in my love disguise.

I lay wanting to heal my pain.

Moon phase.
You cry,
Tears drowning flowers that lay nearby.
You stay,
Most don’t know why.

You live a lilac lie.

You take my Moon phase,
And I want to know why.

My tides,
My waves,
Reach my shoreline.

My sand was empty,
Completely still.

Now,
The grains of sand stand by me,
Pulling me at the knees.

Moon phase,
This night.
Emptying myself solemnly to the dark starlit night.

Little flower behave.
You’ll get your turn,
your chance.
Just wait until the sun rises,
then you can dance.

Flowers seem to bloom ever so beautifully,
The colour stains to them like blood.

The water that filled their stalks gave them the most power weapon to live for,
Even if it were for a week, or even a month over time.

When the time came,
Slowly and peacefully the daisies petals shrivel and lose colour.

They fall...

Because he was her water that quenched her thirst,
And her sun that helped her grow.

He represented yellow.

Yellow represented many things love, the sun, happiness, and warmth.

But to her,
He was a daisy.

That fierce storm inside of me is determination and strength;
not all bad things come out of a thunderstorm. Remember that.

In a cold Summers breeze,
With blinding lights and Autumn leaves,
Along with children's dreams- you live that yellow English life.

She was a lover of the communist region,
We spoke of wars, death and treason.

What were we on about?

Living life with people in times and places,
Forgetting all universe spaces.

"Because everyone was dying... And you were the cure of it".

I stand here in the city.
The tall buildings tower over me,
And the wind cascades around me.

The children and people wear fur coats.
I wear Gucci.
They smell like whiskey and cigarettes,
But I pay no attention.

I see the lights that the city visions,
I hear the cries that the city screams.

It was perfect.  

Because I was here amongst the skyscrapers,
And within the atmosphere of life.

Lady lilac,
reserved,
modest,
shy.
You don’t need no guy.
Live and point your dreamy pearlescent petals to the sky.

I am the sun.
I rise, and I fall into a sunset.
I circle the world, only to return back to you.

The honeybee lands onto the small flower,

A friendship blooming immediately.

The bee talks of pollen and how wonderful it is,

But the flower is silent.

The flower is afraid that it will be used time and time again,

Endlessly dying in a fantasy that we call love.

I’ve planted flowers,
magic,
and lust in you.
So please don’t leave,
for I am afraid I’d lose myself to you too.

Slowly I'll become that flower you loved,
A sunflower, a rose, a tulip bud.

I'll twist, I'll turn, I'll wilt, I'll forever be this guilt.

Slowly I'll be there, and slowly will I twist and fall in,
Throwing myself into the ocean where I can begin.

So shallow, so empty,
Is this all that there is left?

Slowly, slowly I'll be that flower.

Slowly I'll be the one in power.

Slowly I'll find a place where I can open my petals with grace,
Slowly I'll live once again.

Cautiously you will find me on the clifftop,
This time I'll be smiling.

This time I'll no longer wilt,
I'll be tall and strong emptying myself of that guilt.

This time the sun will bless me with all of it's hymn,
and turn your gun.

I roll myself into you, cascading into your summery warmth, kissing your shoulder blade. I refuel myself on you.

I don’t care if you like roses.
He’s a f*cking sunflower.
Shower him with light,
love him.
For he is a king set for the sun.

The girls pants were the colour of lava,
The girl loved sweet doom and drama.

The stars in the sky were acid green,
The boy she loved became very mean.

The cacti had peach flowers,
The clouds would endlessly weep for hours.

She lies quietly on her bed,
The weak flower was her dread.

She closes her eyes and dreams of a new place,
Never wanting nothing more to head out into the dark space...

Orange, yellow and brown.
Is what fills my ground.
Autumn gold. Orange leaves.
Sunflower petals. And the brown seeds.
This was just a typical Autumn dream.

Tangerine gold will fall. So stand close, if not, stand tall. Catch them. They’re magic.
They’re this seasons happiness and it’s selling fast.
Oh leaves of Autumn,
Won’t you last.

Rich season.
High in value.
Retro gold.
All sunflowers beauty sold.

Feeling cold,
Feeling dead,
With nothing else but dirt beneath my head.

You fill my ground with seeds,
This was all that my world would need.
Slowly I feel them tangle,
Their roots start to mingle.

Flowers bloom and grow from my skull,
Further resting me in a peaceful lull.

Sunflowers, daisies and tulip buds,
Lay all around me brightening the mud.
Slowly, slowly my ground is beautiful once again.

Slowly, slowly my body is repaired,
But yet I am still questioning the when?

Wanting to live again just like them.

I love your brown eyes, they’re Autumn living within a soul.
A walking soul that see’s the beauty of life through their own perspective.
I can only imagine that they would see the world golden.

And I am worried that I am a flower that you don’t want around for Spring.

The flowers don't bloom,
And the bees fall into sudden doom.
The seasons pass by,
With the sun and the water and the people.
Nobody sees.
Nobody buys flowers.
Nobody has nice gardens.
The bees start to fly away,
Some die.
The ladies never receive flowers,
They cry.
The cities are empty and dull,
The people smile sadly.

Eyes a devil blue.
Drowning those who swim in your hue.
A captivating, gorgeous blue.
Distracted by the iris, the pupil a black hole- a virus- ******* the stars out of people.
Pulling them to the edge of your eye, you watch them from afar, as they try and survive.

I’ve been planting flowers for so long,
that I have forgotten to stop and appreciate them.

I could live in your veins and still find a way to miss you.

You could push me into the water,
Holding my head under- and I'd still swim back to you.

Sometimes I write in my own blood,
Some would say it's painful.

But my blood,
Is your blood.
It's us.

Your voice makes me smile,
My blood pumps.

You keep me alive,
Even when you are killing me.

Blood is red.
It's our passion.
Our war.
Our hate.
Our love.

You make me exist even when I feel like I am dying.