Dandelion kisses
Blown away by the wind.
The feathery seeds left me;
In which way have I sinned?
I don't deserve these broken shards
Embedded in my heart.
Was it truly a lie when you told me
"'Till death do us part"?
I feel most betrayed because
I'm lying to myself.
Are they just mere myths of inexistent
Romance like the Elf on the Shelf?
I write from inexperience;
I call them 'true lies'.
I've never a dandelion kiss,
Just slight contact of the eyes.
There are no cuts in my heart,
Just plain jealousy.
My pure white wedding was only
A dream replayed endlessly.
So I'll tell you this:
They say that writing is expressive;
But though my words are dishonest
I have to say, they're quite impressive.
For more than just a few years, I've been writing about romance and love. Many people tell me how relatable it is, but I can't return the favor because I've never felt any of the romantic feelings or gestures from my own writing. So I decided to write something different this time: not as relatable, rhyming, and my own truth with writing romantic poetry.