sunflower

I'll be fine one day.

Maybe won't see the colors as bright,

Not be as shiny as a stroke of light.

The yellows and oranges and pinks won't appear,

And, oh, the sunflower we held so dear.

What do I do, I ask you.

What do I do as it gets tougher and tougher to cry,

My joy, my thoughts all gone awry,

My cruelty all spent on me.

What do I do of my ears that search for your laughter?

Not gone today, tomorrow, or the day after?

What do I do of the days I'll spend crawling back?

I don't hear the silence, I just sit in it.

All I hear is your voice in your words,

Coax myself to shield, 'cause it still hurts.

It still hurts, but I don't show it.

Neither do you, even if it ever hurt you.

Does your heart ache like mine does?

Do you plan out your days so you won't spend a moment thinking of me?

...but still do?

Do you think of me like I do?

I'll be fine one day, I tell myself everyday.

Perhaps see the colors of what they are.

Perhaps trust those that seem real.

Not you.

You're not real.