A rococo armchair
a balcony with a view
pale in comparison
to you.

Maybe we're growing up and I have yet to realize-
That peanut butter and jelly sandwiches won't be your favorite food forever and that sometimes whiskey tastes better than a lemonade.
But I will still love
As madly and as carelessly
As blowing dandelions into the summer breeze,
while exchanging kisses beneath the hot sun.

a hopeless romantic who likes the chase. it’s something that become her habit—chasing someone, liking a man who doesn’t have feelings for her.

she craves for physical touch, yet pushing someone away who is trying to get close to her when she sees he’s interested in her too. she always assumes every guy only wants to flirt with her.

the standards she builds are so high. when someone is falling short of her expectations, she easily gets bored.

all she wants is a man who will be patient with her and understands her because she’s confused, she is not used to what she’s feeling right now.

she’s a flower who just starts blooming. a flower who is still learning how to handle a relationship and how to share herself, her soul and her heart physically and emotionally to someone.

Thrown to the wind, each of me a thousandth of a dream.

A wish

B
L
  O
   W
     N

On the B            E
               R E  A Z
                     E

My petals reach the four corners
Over waters, rocks, and metals
Concrete, humans, and their houses
Till each one may settle
On expectant brows.

With puff of breath
entwined with a wish
my energetic breath aims out.

Out toward dandelion.
And like sacred flying fairies
the little seeds take flight.

Ready to plant firmly
in break of day.

Thank you dandelion
for roaring with airs whisper
to move in grace
to go into Mothers soil
and bring a dream to sprout.

StarBG © 2017

i feel very extra sometimes…
    
    i feel very used sometimes…

            i feel like a dandelion when it wears its’ coat of fluff…
        
    people pick me up and admire then

******* away, forgetting about

me until i plant my seeds for the next bloom…

            more and more and more of me spread,
            
    too many places i am in now.

i’ve been blown too far, so i cannot
    
    find myself among the flowers.  i am just

            a **** that only people with childish innocence

    would bother gazing upon and

and i wish that i could just die.
    
                i feel very extra sometimes
                                and i wither with grief.