The sound of my inamorato
Loneliness cries screaming deep in your soul
The feeling may still strong
This hurting shall not last long
It will ultimately pass
No more sobs no more cries
Dandelion will make you wise
Every split second heals
Bringing you to the genuine peace

She ran into the forest.
They detested her,
even if she just did her best.
She found a spot, under a tree.
Dots of silver teased her,
"Come, see me."
With sweaty hands,
she picked with a swift gesture.
She held, it collapsed,
"What could I've done wrong?"
She took another, this time with caveat.
Still, it fell apart, in a usual format.

"Am I that destructive?"
She asked herself.

"No. Look."

The steady beads of pearls were, dancing?
Piles of rubble lifted to the sky,
like stars in the early morning.
The wind lingered, blew them quite gently
Magnificence is painted around the vivid scene she's seeing.
She inhaled every beauty.
Then, exhaled every shattered dream.

"You're right, whoever you are,
There's still beauty in breaking."

My heart pounds and breaks into pieces
Whenever I cry I have so many reasons
I close my eyes and I see your face
you look at me and make my heart race
Your true love is my fine medicine
When I die your touch gives me life again
Your all I want and all ill ever need
Your every wish I made on a dandelion seed

you always complained
that you were a dandelion
in a garden of roses,
a pest, a **** --
something unlovable.

and maybe you weren't perfect.
maybe you were a bit
rough around the edges
with a crack
here or there.
maybe your seams had come undone
and, if you still insist on being a flower,
maybe you had lost a petal or two.

but what you failed to realize
is that every rose
has thorns.

so maybe they didn't have
as many cracks as you,
as many tears as you,
as many rough edges
as you did,
but god,
they were nowhere near as pure,
nowhere near as lovely
as you were.

we wish on dandelions, dear,
because we trust them.
nobody's ever wished
on a rose,
now have they?
no.
they're too afraid
they'll get pricked,
stabbed,
betrayed.

so maybe you were
the dandelion
hidden in a garden of roses.
maybe you were the outcast,
the misfit,
the odd one out.
maybe you were just a little bit unloved,
and unfairly forgotten.

but what you failed to realize
is that i would have gladly picked you
over the brightest rose
in that silly little garden.

(a.m.)

In the summer,
I want to sit on your bed
and eat frozen
strawberries, red,
And ice cream,
And I want to lick
The sweetness of your lips
And talk about the stars
And their myths.
In the fall,
I want to wear your sweaters to bed,
And cuddle up to you in blankets,
And drink tea and hot chocolate with you,
Crunch the leaves with our boots
And hold hands.
In the winter,
I want to make love,
Skin to skin,
And the sunlight reflecting on the snow
Filling the room,
And keeping my socks on
And feeling your hands warm under the covers.
I want to start fires with a kiss.
In the spring,
I want to be reborn with you.
I want to be green and yellow,
Like dandelions,
And your breath to ******* away.
I want to be new.
I want colors to bloom in between our hands,
To fill your heart with flowers,
To smile like a child.

I am the breath you exhale
That sends dandelion seeds asail.
To you, a momentary pleasure,
While it gives my life new measure.
You've plucked me from home,
Blew me into the unknown.
I might be a seed under your boot,
My existence could seem moot.
But next summer, when you've lost incentive
In momentary pleasures, no longer attentive,
I'll be in full bloom.
Pick me up, I'll rebound again soon.