I long to resist the desire of physical intimacy,
a deceit embedded in that static buzzing in my ear
gazing at the sun for warmth
the world said repent
and now is the time to grow
I ache for a new world to spiral into my wake
who am I to love you
Heaven is fleeting in my view
a decaying fruit on the sidewalk stares back into me
I am the black dandelion
blowing like ashes in the wind
fuzziness in my core
a spiked sensation rippled from my head
yet
sensitive under the weight of wind
to recognize the strength in my sensibility
to sense a downward motion coming from my own
and to see a reflection I truly recognize as home
ripple in the reflection I seek
erase the odes I once sung that blew away my thistles
in place for empty promises
from my memory
I no longer await for the sun to spiral towards your face
only for the glare to make me shudder
there is no room for thorns on my spine
I uphold the capacity to love
and the polarity of hate
but I refuse to let it mold me into thorns
that I am not
do not project your sorrow upon me
I kiss your fears into vagueness
I am a black dandelion in sunlight
and at dawn I am the same being
Resisting the pressures of time’s envy
I still feel limp under the weight of my thistles
but I sit
and I linger in the gaze of sunlight
for a new world to wake underneath me