dreamboy: a poetry collection

daisies

i held daisies in my hand;

they tilted to the side as if

they were thinking of life

the way i think of you

sometimes.

it's not a coincidence that they

crumbled in my hands

useless

because you wouldn't take them.

it could be

a metaphor.

i'd prefer to think it's just

what it is.

you couldn't take the hint

that i was breathing in your

scent

and feeling dizzy,

that when i said i didn't know what to

to do

with them,

i meant that

i needed you

to have them.

i need you

to have me.