I could tell you of a story, of this flower that I saw.
Growing in a little crack, this flower had it all.
It's beauty got me thinking, how ****** we forget.
It isn't where we come from, it's that we never quit.
The struggles that this flower faced, no quiver nor a fall.
It rose above the chances,
through this crack that was so small.
The only will was life, and the chance that it may "be".
Exist in ways intended, and truly live as free.
This dandelions beauty, gives me the strength to know,
content with where I'm rooted, 
 and will to always grow.

A small flower
Forlorn, questing,
Reaches skyward, tight-budded,
Yearning for the gentle touch
of nurturing rays.
Oh, fragile,
Trying not to drown
In the cold, relentless rain.
Bright star, I need you so,
Without you, I will shrivel and die.
Warm me, lift me skyward,
Touch me, kiss me
Open my petals,
Only you can see my colours,
Feed my heart,
Encourage me to bloom.

I realized today that there are spaces in letters
Spaces in atoms
Spaces between my fingers and my toes
Between the hairs on my head
Spaces in between the floorboards in my room
Wide open space
The kind where you're standing on a mountain
Trying to catch the stolen breath, beauty thieved from your lungs
There is blank space
The spot where you write your name at the top of a paper or the kind where complete bliss wipes the ***** chalkboard of thoughts in your mind
Space where the moon floats
The universe exists
Then there is the aching space between bodies
Clinging so tightly to one another
The kind that two souls eclipse in attempt to defy theoretical physics
I concluded space is an amusing thing
It makes you **** your head
Humans try to fill it up with their bodies, their thoughts, and their emotions
Space is like time
Both are concepts
And I will irrevocably attempt to fill the spaces between my fingers with yours and think about you at 4AM