DEATH BY DANDELIONS

The thing about dandelions is that they go everywhere!
You take the stalk in your hands and you blow on it slightly every so softly and poof! Little white fluff spirals outwards into the lazy wind, and if you accidentally take a breath it’d go all up your nose and achoo, you sneeze! Little ticklish fluff getting right all up there in you and yourself

And dandelions aren’t necessarily wicked. They’re doing what they must to survive, and if that means popping up wherever they can carried by fate and fortune then so be it
You can make tea out of them. You can watch them dance if you want!
But say you see yourself as a manicured lawn, your edges cut neatly away so that society knows where you begin and what is yours, so that your neighbours don’t creep into yourself and you carefully trim and prune the nastiness and the selfishness so that you have just the right amount of ego to coexist with the people around you

(Too much and you’re pushing into others!)
(Too little and you cannot breathe!)

and then, and then, you’re going to have to be very careful
You’ll have to watch for little white thoughts on the wind, and you’ll have to kneel down on the flattened soil of yourself, with the sharp trowel pierce the skin of what you are and pull grimily at the roots of what you believe, cutting out each irregularity, and you’ll chuck it on the grass around you in a little pile that should be wriggling and then if you remember you’ll carry that handful of twisted leaves to wherever you’ll never have to think about it ever again
And even if you are the kind of person who lets the dandelions in and who doesn’t care about the little yellow and white thoughts sprouting all about, there’s going to be something else that you won’t let in, like a manicured lawn or a cat shitting everywhere or invasive birds crowding out the local species or a mint choking out everything else with itself. There’s always something. Even if you let yourself grow loose and wild and overflowing, even if you will not leave or will not enter, there is a dandelion seed too small to see.

I don’t think death by dandelions is a thing. They’re too small to kill you.

But if you’re worried about feeling their seeds burrowing in your flesh and cracking open your perfect lawn

then I really don’t think you would want to tell the difference.