We were naïve dandelions that felt as if we could conquer the world around us,

Not yet mature enough to fly away and gain our freedom

And stupid enough to think we could stay here forever and live off of yellow bliss.

From our patch in the grass, I thought not even the wind could tear us apart.

 

The wind was always pleasant to me.

We whispered cordial greetings to each other as she ruffled through my petals.

She’d fill me with courage on her quest to circle the globe before coming back around the following day,

Until we were blown into oblivion and now rest on adjacent hills.

 

With distance, I’ve noticed just how much we were out growing our hilltop home.

We were growing apart as we grew old,

And that’s not the wind’s fault

But our own.

 

How dumb was I to think we could float through the sky gently and start again on top of the next hill?

How dumb was I to think we wouldn’t be ripped apart by violent winds and children who wanted to take our budding flowers home to their mothers? 

 

But even after we’ve said goodbye,

And we remain companions, 

I can’t get over the breathtaking words you said to me a mere month ago,

And how it took you only three weeks to take it all back.

 

 

When the wind roars loud enough,

On days that the sky is dark,

I can’t hear any of the beautiful lies that leave your lips anymore.

She instead reminds me of my strength.

 

As my petals have faded from sunshine yellow,

And they have instead been replaced by wisps of wisdom well beyond my age, 

I’ve realized, looking back,

Just how naïve I was before.

 

On my new hill,

I thrive,

While you sit on your adjacent hill,

Jealous of the fact that I’m ok with moving on.