There she sits
poking holes through daisy stems
feeding the next through to make a chain.
Again and again.
A daisy chain.  It never rained.  It did not need to.
In our hearts it was always summer.  Then.
When we were young and free to roam.  When
we were young.  She still is in her heart.  Her soul
is old,  She is cold. But the memories warm her.
She lies under the daisies and revisits them whenever.
When she can.  While she can.  Trapped in her daisy time.
Not such a crime is it   To be left here.  With her heart.
She sits again and again threading daisies in a chain.
These are lazy days.  Tight nights.  White ways.  Dark fights.
Again and again these are lazy days.

dear friend,
trying to participate
falling and failing epically
perks of being seemingly invisible
to the only one you see

don't want to wake up on your own
so you accept the love you think you deserve
put them first and now you know
this is how a wallflower grows

your friends they see it, live it, breathe it
smokey parties and poorly lit rooms
synthetic happiness, the only way to get by
fragile hopes and dreams

you know everyone and no one
watching their daily lives happen
but nobody stops it takes a second look
at your wilting petals and falling leaves

below average, psychos together
"welcome to the island of misfit toys"
somehow a place of belonging
and now in this moment, you feel infinite

love always,

It's only a matter of time
Before happiness turns into boredom
and claims that it's time to leave
To seek out a new venue to play
For a limited time only.
Maybe a one night engagement
Perhaps longer
Until the happiness returns in a wave
of strumming tunes and sweet harmonies
New to a used-up heart
And just as exhilarating as the songs
that it has heard before
On repeat

I have a home in my own heart when I think of you.
For the first time,
I have a home I hold inside me.
Because of loving you, I am a little bit home
Wherever I go.