All The Things I Want To Say But Can't

s u n f l o w e r

holding hope that one day things will work out,

she sets her sight on the sunsets,

slowly descending over a field of sunflowers,

praying to apollo that things will be better

winds of change flowed through her hair,

she cried on tear-shaped petals and sugar

shoved meticulously into glass tubes,

she opened holy books and 

spoke tongues in glass homes,

praying for the heaviness in her mind

to be at ease once again.

to the old gods and new, she wished for

nothing more than a little peace,

but all she had was fake sunflowers on book shelves,

glass tubes full of wishes,

empty promises washing away with the shampoo.