buttercup
You are yellow as the sun, a warm and bright individual.
Comforting in times of darkness, yet something so small.
You hold the secrets of the summer season, holding the birth of april and may in your palms.
Being caressed by no other than the wind.
The unknown fact of your poisonous behavior, hidden deep under the soil.
Your roots are tainted, darling, and no one dares come near you.
This poem is about:
Me
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