i speak not
yet i write these words with fervor
i spill forth my illusionary dreams
and you’ll fall in love with my hallucinatory fever
is it a delusion if this is a delusion
join me in my make belief madness
like alice, we’ll revel in childlike wonder
so scatter the bouquet and dream in the land of flowers

he has the heart of a daisy

what does that mean?
he shook his head, offended
never quite understanding why it was an insult either

...

if daisies are frail
why do they still dapple the emerald hillsides
like pieces of fallen clouds

do not be fooled by the delicate imagery
dainty petals and swaying stems
they too, brave the March winds
and harbour more than shallow things
their roots cling deep to their mother soil

it is human imposition
and mortal eyes too often look only petal deep

neither feminine nor masculine
nor weak, frail, or strong
they carry the mystery of the wild in their xylemic veins

late at night, i lie awake
thinking of things i should have said
all the mistakes i've made
and signs i should've read

then think about what i can't live without
you, front and center in my mind
sometimes it feels like halfway love
almost, but not quite

still, parts of you make me whole
who i am and who i need to be
i think of love letters that weren't torn up
feelings of blue and green

when i'm without you
blank page, artless innocence
i realize how dependent i've grown to you
and feel the need to create a distance

sometimes i look up at the purple sky
and wonder if you're looking too
i gaze at the colors and the beauty of it all
though its beauty would never compare to you