through the yellow weeded dandelion fields,
the only thing you loved more than me
& you took it for granted.
left it for the insects of the field.
the field which brushed your legs,
who sways from side to side,
the field which changed seasons every year.
beautiful, elegant & pure.
but yet you left it behind.
leaving me alone.
accompanied with your favourite flowers.
regardless, last year it left me too.
while you admired your lavender bush,
these dandelions you left me with,
died, rotted & disappeared.
now all these seeds they left me,
will now become new dandelions,
bright, white & precious.
my dandelions.
-b.
YOU ARE READING
THE MOON WEEPS
Poetrypoetry // prose ( trigger warning. blood / suicide mentions & death hints ) [ ranked 8th in deep thinking 31/5/21 ] [ ranked 19 in poetry collection 13/6/21 ] [ ranked 101 in poetry 7/6/21 ]
