Damn Sunflower Heart and Dreaded Kiss-talk

I had a dream that burned my brain last night as it seeped through like acid to drip down the rest of my body.

And like a cliff-hanger or something, he told me about this kiss. A kiss that, generally, was wrong.

And a kiss that hurt my heart. My own, personal sunflower heart.

It's times like these when I feel it start to welt. Only from a dream! Isn't it sad? I wish it wasn't so fragile and I wish it was loud.

I'm so done with kiss-talk, in dreams or otherwise. And it might be because I'm jealous and as much as I want to deny it the past still haunts my young sunflower heart.

Love never dissipates. It can morph and can leave stains from times before I knew better. And damn it, I feel it and I hate it. I hate the love I feel. Like the dream, it burns.

But there is no hiding from this fire. It only consumes, it takes and never gives. So I am lost and burnt and angry and full of this all around unwanted love.

I wish I could saw it out and be reborn but that would make things just too easy, wouldn't it?