I've started burning the dandelions.
Watched with a smile of contentment as the cool blue flame ravaged the white seeds. Burned the weeds before they could even spread. Destroyed wishes before they could be made. I recite my desires at 11:11 everyday like a prayer, like I'm in church mumbling these constant words at the stained glass Mary. Like that wooden cross would grant me all I have ever begged for. I wait in silence, acting like God will whisper in my ear and tell me that I'm asking for too much. That asking to be happy is too much of a task for him to complete. I finish my wishes with an "In Jesus' name, amen" and hope for the best.
YOU ARE READING
The Swallows and the Sunsets
PoetryI tend to find meanings in things not intended to have one.
