daisy

solitude can be okay too.

i.

her heart bloomed petals long ago; instinct told her

never let them go, so she buried the roots in the soil

she calls home; daisy, she enjoys being alone. & yes,

her heart cries for a lover she has yet to know, but for

this brief pause in eternity, she doesn't mind the quiet

nights, she spends alone. daisy, she finds reading just

as happy as her friends find partying, or even more so.

she finds him, she loves him, she says, run your hands

along my curved spine, love me younger, it's divine.

ii.

he's been broken, countless times: so he built walls

from pretend, it's his pain he tries to hide. that's when

he found, the peace in sleeping, when stress is weeping

from the corner of his dreams, he finds the purest form

of clarity. & he didn't need much beyond simple love,

but without it he would've never realized, he found

quiet days of hiking far more appealing than screaming

hallways that're constantly mocking.

he find her, he loves her, he says, let's take it slow, baby,

don't you know, i've been down this road.

iii.

they tell her, it's all in her head, that daisy simply couldn't

understand; but youth isn't unyielding, it's naively forgiving,

but daisy's always lived, with her heart striding; why change

that now, when being alone suddenly feels confiding? so when

courage leaps out, into her arms, daisy faces the world; only

he is what her gaze had held.

together they'll love, with an unspoken knowing; an understanding

that strings their hearts together, it's quite heartwarming. and

together they'll spend their days talking or simply listening; just

as much as they appreciate their quiet nights alone in their room.

solitude doesn't mean one ever stops loving you.

she finds him & he finds her, she loves him & he loves her,

they both say, careful, i may end up loving you.

ironic, how they already do.