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