My dreams are like the petals of a sunflower,
Picked off one by one
Between your thumb and forefinger—dropped
Fluttering to the ground in little pinwheels
How does it feel? To hold the power in your hands,
To watch the dreams get crushed beneath your boot heel
Sunflower petals, left along hardwood floors to die.

You are my salvation and my demise,
Cracked rips and ripped open hearts ready for surgery
Sunflower petals, left to rot at the bottom of a green water vase
You open me up and leave fault lines,
jagged ridges along the plateaus of my skin
left to warn against earthquakes.

Sunflower petals die,
Just like dreams do.