I am not a Daisy. I am a human.
Why I am not a Daisy?
I cannot sprout through concrete to meet the sun,
I cannot gather dew drops on my petals.
I don’t have petals, instead I have arms.

Arms can be called petals.
I don’t see why not.
My petals are scarred.
They hold the history of my hidden past.
Opposite of beautiful,
Opposite of innocent.

I went to my friend’s
and she’d say, “Daisy, Do you like Disneyland?”
“Yes I do. I haven’t been since I was five.”
She tells me that we’re going to go to Disneyland.
That we’re going to be five years old again.
So we go to Disneyland.

We ride the rides,
We watch the little boys and girls laugh and play,
They don’t seem to notice my petals.
They don’t seem to know of the twisted ways they can think.
They don’t seem to know that one day, they’ll have to pay taxes
and work a job.

Nothing is the same as when I was five years old.
Now I know.
It is no longer the happiest place on Earth,
because I am not. A Daisy.

When she was young, she'd go for long walks. On the side of the cracked road where grass grows, she walked and smiled because of the way the sun was a blanket on her arms and how the trees danced with the wind. She would never tell anyone where she would go, she just went. And she would stare up into the sun and would cry because it shone so bright. She loved the clouds and the way they changed because of the same wind that made the trees dance.
She use to believe in magic, she believed she was capable of flying. Bella would run up to the tallest points of the hills and spread her arms like wings and lift her chin to meet the sky and she'd spin. She'd spin as fast as she could with her mouth open in a smile and eyes staring up at the sun until she fell into the soft meadow of grass. She would lay there under her favorite tree. She would pretend her favorite tree was the Giving Tree from Shel Silverstein's book, but she never asked anything of the tree. She would just sit and talk with the tree and hug it, she would tell the tree how much she loved it. She would tell the tree all her secrets and of the cute boy in her class and the tree listened because no one else would.

Last week, I had the strangest dream.
Where everything was it exactly how it seemed,
there was a version of me,
that I've never seen.
And you were there,
with those cigarettes you always smoke.
We danced, the way words do on your tongue.
It hit me just like a bullet from a gun,
I loved you in that moment.
Then you got pulled away, as if you were light as air.
You left me as if it was the easiest thing you've done,
And you were gone, just like that.
Good thing it was just a dream.

They tell us that we should know who we want to be,
but how can we do that when we don't even know who we are?
They tell us not to look directly into the sun,
so we never bother to look into the mirror.
They tell us to never step on a sidewalk crack because we shouldn't want to break our mother's back,
but we do anyways as if we have something against her.
They tell us not to be sad,
but how can we ignore the feeling they give us?
They tell us they love us,
but how can we believe that if they never touch us?
They tell us to fear death,
but why should we?

i look at individuals as souls, not bodies
bodies are temporary but souls are forever
and that's how i like to look at myself and others
as everlasting drifting souls.
some with direction and others carefree

Yes I'm angry
And it's eating me alive
Because I want to be the one who makes you happy
But the only time I ever see you smiling is when you're talking to her, or about her, or listening to her spanish music on the radio
I'm so angry that I can't be enough for you
I'm so angry
I'm never angry
I'm so ******* angry I can't see straight

AND I'M ******* SORRY FOR BRINGING MY HEART TO YOU BUT LEAVING MY SOUL IN THE ******* BACKYARD BUT YOUR EYES WEREN'T EVEN ******* OPEN I MEAN LIKE YOU WOULD'T EVEN KNOW IF I WAS IN A ******* COMA FOR ****'S SAKE YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO'S SUFFERING SO STOP DROWNING IN ******* THIN AIR I WISHED SOMEONE DID WAKE ME UP BEFORE I DECIDED TO GIVE MY WRETCHED SOUL TO THE ******* BACKYARD LIKE WHAT THE **** DO YOU EXPECT FROM ME AM I SUPPOSED TO LEND MY ******* SHOULDER TO YOU WHILE YOUR SCREAMS BREAK THESE ******* SKELETONS THAT I SPENT SO LONG TO REASSEMBLE I SAY EITHER YOU STOP PRETENDING OR THAT I BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE ******* SERIOUS AND I HOPE YOU WOULDN'T END UP IN THE ******* GRAVEYARD BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO LOSE MY ******* HEART AND I AM SURE I WILL BE GUILTY FOR THIS BUT HOW THE **** AM I SUPPOSED TO HAVE A CONSCIENCE WHEN MY HEART IS WEAK I JUST WISHED YOUR SORROW DIDN'T BRING MINE BACK. DID YOU HAVE TO END THE CALL? DID YOU? TELL ME, DID YOU? PLEASE DON'T END YOUR LIFE.