dandelion dyke

it's like being a dandelion in a field of flowers
you look like them, you smell like them, you feel like them


but you're a weed


and when she picks you for the vase,
when she fills it with water still cold to the touch,
you're disgusted with yourself

even though you look like them,
even though you smell like them,
even though you feel like them,


even though she knows you're a dandelion,
even though that's why she picked you,


you are not a flower like the others are,
you're a weed


you tricked her into picking you and you're a weed

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