Dandelion Gypsy Queen. Poem by Leah Ayliffe

Nothing tastes more gorgeously sour than a glass of tainted love under the twilight sky.
You need someone to hate, well bring on the storm, because I am the eye of a hurricane.
Calm, serene, it'll drive you mad. Cursed and happy, you'll see me shine in the shadows you deny.
I was your rare thornless rose amongst your field of all the women who cut you with their thorns. Women who once were considered rare in their natural forms.
You lay me down to rest, rooted in the history of lovers gone.
I was blinded by your childlike sincerity. Eyes now open I see: all that is pure you will destroy.
I'm not staying here in your garden of Graves my darling. I'm no rose who made you bleed. I told you from the beginning I am a dandelion.
Wild in my strange insane force. I tried to tell you I've been everywhere and everyone. To say I have so much left to be.
You blind man, now see the truth. I am a weed in your manicured garden, and off I go to grow elsewhere next door. I promise you this: you will see me everywhere. In all the things you could not claim your own, in all the things you want but fear to keep. In the storms you cannot weather.
My yellow petals turned to silver dust wishes and you blew me far far away in past things. A kiss of life, though perfectly disguised as the kiss of death.
Yes, I'm no rare rose my once dearly loved playmate of the world. I'm a dandelion gypsy queen, flying on the wind to better days.