Picking Daisies on Sundays

by Liana Cincotti

My heart has been broken a million times by the same hand, yet I would let it happen a million times again if it meant it was by you I was weaker than I thought / My heart sagging like the stems of uncut, unkempt flowers because of the sunlight you held in your faraway heart / Maybe you weren’t mine to love / I think I’m falling The wallpaper above her bed frame was glued in my brain the way it was glued against her walls / I got so close to running my fingers against it / I wish I felt the confidence to tell you the truth, as strongly as I felt stubborn to hide it Do you hear that? That’s my heart knocking against my chest at the sight of you / I’ve never heard anything more terrifying / How could you provide me air and suffocate me at the same time? Blue hydrangeas, pink tulips, red bleeding hearts / It’s all you ever loved, but never yourself / I never understood why anyone spoke poorly of the color brown, it was a dream on you And that kiss… I think about it all the time / Was it wrong of me to think of you when you were never mine? / I feel lucky to have had you, but dismayed to know what life is like without you Don’t worry if the flowers pass, I’ll be right there to plant you more / And when the soil grows old, I’ll comfort it in the chaos of the storm Am I a ghost in your story? / Because you look at me with conviction when I don’t even know the crime I committed Burden me with your secrets / So I can carry the weight you’re so fearful of letting go To be close to ...