I am the weeds growing between the cracks in the concrete.
A beautiful marigold, reminding others of sunshine
But I am still deadly, filled with bitter dandelion milk.

                                       No matter how pretty.
                                                  I am still,
                                                      Just
                                                        A
                                                    ****.

I killed your hopes and dreams
but... How?
I am the very thing that makes them come true.
I fly peoples wishes in the wind.

                                     No matter how magical.
                                                  I am still,
                                                     Just
                                                       A
                                                    ****.

I come back after every **** spray that decays me down to a black, ashy, flower imprint on the sidewalk.
I sprout back with more sunny flowers and more wish seeds.
I have rooted myself.

                                     No matter what you do
                                               I will always
                                                     Grow.
                        
                                 Your honey-colored nightmare.

The waves have settled and the water is still.

Clear skies,
there are
no storms here.

There is always an emptiness before I drown again.

It was one of those nights that instead of feeling as bright
as all the other stars that had been pin-pricked into the sky,

I felt more like the blackened blue stretch behind them
because tonight,
I just flickered out of existence.