I had a dream that burned my brain
last night as it seeped through like acid to
drip down the rest of my body.

And like a cliff-hanger or something,
he told me about this kiss.
A kiss that, generally, was wrong.

And a kiss that hurt my heart.
My own, personal sunflower heart.

It’s times like these when I feel it
start to welt.
Only from a dream! Isn’t it sad?
I wish it wasn’t so fragile
and I wish it was loud.

I’m so done with kiss-talk,
in dreams or otherwise.
And it might be because I’m jealous
and as much as I want to deny it
the past still haunts my young sunflower heart.

Love never dissipates.
It can morph
and can leave stains from times before
I knew better.
And damn it, I feel it
and I hate it.
I hate the love I feel.
Like the dream, it burns.

But there is no hiding from this fire.
It only consumes,
it takes and never gives.
So I am lost and burnt and angry and full
of this all around unwanted love.

I wish I could saw it out and be reborn
but that would make things just too easy,
wouldn’t it?