I don’t hate you but I can’t be your friend.
Everyone looks toxic to me.
This is not supposed to be an angry letter but that's all that has been coming out lately.
The poison coming out from the tip of my pen is a part of me I don’t wish to know.
But it’s grown onto me like a **** in spring.
I’m the dandelion that to a new eye, is beautiful.
But the ones who’ve stuck around to know more,
I am annoying, old and toxic.
They pretend to be appreciative when surrounded;
Spending every second alone trying to get rid of me.
I’m sorry I became a dandelion…
Maybe when I die, you can ******* away like the others.
& your wish will finally come true.