Perhaps I am a cactus.

              Perhaps,
there are needles
                              protruding
from my skin
to prove how soft
i really am.

                            A saguaro,
                   only hollow      
      by the birds                  
           who make nests      
                          in my chest.

Perhaps,
               I will flower
once the rainy season is over.

I will drink deep of this muddy sorrow
and my skin will swell
warm
          and green
                            and well nourished
by the sky.

Perhaps,
                it will be
the most beautiful
                 blossom anyone has
       ever seen
and people will travel
                                                      mile­s
                      just to
                                      admire.

Perhaps,
        ­        they will wonder
how my flower
                came from such a
spiny
thing
And Perhaps
                        I will tell them.

No distance is too far,
for two longing hearts.
After all,
the kiss of sunlight
still grows fields of flowers.
And in this moment,
thinking of you,
my heart is in full bloom.

I am the flower that didn't bloom,
The broken record, out of tune,
Oh won't you love me, please hear my plight,
Because you're the thing my mind plays at night,
A rich symphony in your right,
I give into you without a fight,
You fill my lungs with much needed air,
You can't go,
Don't even dare,
For without you, I fall apart,
And that unbloomed flower, left, with a broken heart.

I was always more of an autumn girl, there was something so poetic about watching the leaves fall, maybe that's why I always hated spring. But then you appeared, on that hot april night. So full of leaves. You told me I was an unbloomed flower. So you water me with laughs and sweet words, in a couple of days I started blooming. And then I understood how wonderful spring was.
I now see flowers so differently and with so much respect, because it is so hard to bloom in the time we live in, we are so full of toxic people and words that stick to us like poison ivy, yet you made it look so easy for me.
you told me that I should bloom like a wildflower, no matter the place, no matter the season, no matter the circumstances, you have the ability to brighten up someone's path.

(b.c.)

I have accepted change
And that everything will change
And I've accepted that our feelings
Won't forever be the same.

But I've learned you shan't focus
On keeping the flower alive
But rather watch as it blooms
And lay it to rest when it dies.

Poppies abloom in memoriam.

Fields content of the past.

Storms brewing above.

To renew them once again.

Memories of battle, scars on the earth.
Revealed once again.

In the fields.

It was the poppies to bloom

In memoriam.