dandelion

my words come out as dandelions. 
golden wisps of stardust and sunlight and wild 
i speak, carried by my breath, 
do not listen when others tell me to stop. 

i suppose that if this is true 
then i am a weed 
then i am not good. 
but people have tried to make me something else before 
and i refuse to be killed. 
i refuse to die 
not to them. 
i spread my roots and i 
f l y

yejunee

FL

18 years old

More by yejunee

  • ouroborous

    the snake is hungry 

    so the snake will eat 

    and eat it does, chewing, gnawing, 

    and will you ever notice, little thing, 

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    you are swallowing? 

     

  • abalone

    from salt and foam and scales 

    steal the hearts of stone 

    nacreous shells, dying husks, 

    the honey-sweet flesh that once 

    clung to its bones 

    to die of thirst. 

  • eschatology

    meet me at the end of the world 

    the space between firestorms and tsunamis 

    across the acid oceans 

    and here, where the rot 

    has begun to reclaim the cities at last.