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Phoebe Hynes Jun 2015
Plant me and forget about me,
for I am an annual.
I will show up when you haven’t thought about me for a while.
You might remember what color I am,
or you might be surprised that
I’m in fact purple.
You’ll have to get back into the routine of tending to me.
And we’ll have to develop our relationship all over.
I’m merely a fling,
which you’ll go back to every single summer.
I lose my petals after October
and you simply can’t handle that.
You’ll find comfort inside
caring for an exotic cactus you bought in the Home Depot garden section.
Seeing you every day for four months is truly worth it
Phoebe Hynes May 2015
Dandelions are the most independent flower.
They grow where they want.
No one plants them.
They’re free.
They’re infinite.
I felt infinite picking them in the apple orchard with you.
We were free.
We were infinite.  
I couldn't handle my smile watching you,
Rip them out of the earth by the handfuls.
Your face was covered in sunshine and pollen.
It might have been the pollen that resembled sunlight.
You emitted the sun in a way I've never seen before.
I refuse to accept that dandelions are weeds,
Because I want to be a dandelion with you.
Phoebe Hynes Apr 2015
My heart weeps at the thought of sunshine.
While April creeps around,
my soul begins to thaw,
for rays of light cause the frozen to abate.  

This winter I thought you were my only sunshine,
But it turns out,
You weren't.
Phoebe Hynes Mar 2015
Understand me.
Understand me.
Understand me.
I’m standing in front of you.
Understand me.

I stood before you,
And you never understood.
Phoebe Hynes Jan 2015
There was a boy who I told no,
No meant yes,
And my cries did not matter.
I have crumbled,
           and stumbled,
               and the matter I once was has turned to dust,
                     dancing away on a cloud somewhere my soul would rather be.
Phoebe Hynes Jan 2015
I've looked up one every moment we've had together, tonight.
My mind Transforms into a theater, while my memories of you construct film.
Being with you feels as though I am walking through novels.
You are my favorite author, a special inspiration.
Every minute consumed of you and me, formulates a new page.
All these occurrences keep me turning, and turning.
Once each portion concludes, Its more I crave.
I guess you can’t spend every waking minute reading.
Do you hear that?
Reality is calling, suffering immediate withdrawal.
It’s inevitably necessary to witness the future and make it a current event.
Because I can not stand the thought of remaining, just, here.
For an instant let me glance further.
Curiosity is flammable.
I'll be sure to tip toe around the words, in hopes of not igniting anything.
I have never been so impatient and selfish.
Have you failed to mention you’re still writing?
Or, was I too deep in my head that instant?
Take your time.
I'll be directing a movie in my mind.

— The End —