Daisies grow under my bed every time you kiss me goodnight.
I can smell their floral scent as they creep around my bed, trying to wrap me up in their dark green stems.
The petals, they fall, all around the outline of your fragile, milky body.
I cannot touch you, for your skin burns of lust and passion, and you make me feel as though you are too good to be true.
I doubted your existence until the daisies blossomed, because I feared you walked out of my sleeping mind, to fall right into my arms.
The daisies remind me that you were my dream,
and you came true.