cold and harsh rain hits my faded pink umbrella
the frigid wind blows against my wet face and hair
my umbrella falls from my once stronghold of fingers
the skin
the hands you used to hold
and the solace
solace that used to awaken from your endearing smile
solace that used to always be there before
the solace that would afloat on our midnight mugs of hot chocolate
the hot chocolate you'd wipe from the corners of my mouth with a chuckle

my umbrella hits the sidewalk
and im brought back
away from those distant memories

i wish everything could go back to how it was
when everything was your solace
when you were my everything
before
when it wasn't lonely, cold nights
when you were here instead of the rain
i wish i could go back to before
when i was happy
before, where did you go?

i am flowers.
flowers
flowers floating throughout this thin, grey water that surrounds me
a bunched bouquet
colored and ***** rubber bands hold me close
embrace me and hold me tight
but yet i still feel like parts of me
parts of these petals that have once bloomed
and my darkening leaves
are escaping
writhing in this water
the wind blowing from a distance
the currents have me running into walls
endless walls of cascading waves
down
down
forcing me down
where can i only look up to the surface
and its light
forcing me deep under
i want to escape

my heart leaps out of my chest
running
running fast through those warm wildflower meadows
the grass being folded seamlessly with every step
the warm sunlight embracing my shoulders
the lukewarm puddles of water the rain left from the night before

with the trees and their leaves dancing
like a lively flame that won't go out just yet
like dandelions brushing against my fingertips
and how they slowly begin to rise
and float away into the afternoon breeze

i lay underneath the shade of a sycamore tree
the dandelions graze the sky with every gentle move
they soar through the trees and up to the clouds
and up to the atmosphere and up to the sun

i wonder if i can become a dandelion
in the next life that comes
even if it means i would be as fragile as cream surfacing a mug of coffee
even if it means i would be light and weightless like a feather
even if it means i would break apart
i would still want to fly

to soar the skies like dandelions do
and sprinkle the air with their hidden beauty
oh, to be a dandelion