field day

touch me not
i hate the touch-me-not flower 
because without fail,
it closes when i try to hold it. 

i know it's in its name - 
touch. me. not.
but i don't know how not to touch something i love. 

i said i hate the touch-me-not flower.
but it's only because i love it. 
and i can't hold it. 

i swear i know it loves me too,
but it's scared of love
so i'll keep trying.

it shuts me out
so i try again - 
i'll try to hold it until it never closes. 

how many more tries until it never opens? 
how many more closes until i never hold it? 

sunflower
i find warmth in the light 
of his face 
it's my favorite 
place 

to be.

i can only turn 
towards him
to be filled to the 
brim

with glee. 

rose
the star of the show,
soft love after woe, 
a bouquet's hero,
warm gesture to-go - 

but i want a daisy.

daisy
the first time i found a love that wasn't lazy
was with a boy that gave me a daisy,

and it still sits perched on my table. 

the daisy is dead but it's still prettier now
than the time i got it because he made a vow - 

our love would age like fine wine. 

my bouquet was white while my love was red 
and i didn't have a rose, i had a daisy instead.

white flowers over white lies, every day of the week.  

more love in my heart, than flowers in my hand,
a daisy in my palm, more content than i planned - 

my heart was touched more than my body. 

the flower may be dead, but the memory isn't hazy,
my love may be what you'd call 'crazy'.

but i'll always cherish my sweet, sweet daisy. 

aishu
15-01-2026

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