Wildflowers penetrate the porous dirt
Mingling with the grasses
Unafraid to assert their presence in the fields. Wildflowers dance freely,
spreading seeds through the air
Along the music of the wind.
Wildflowers; bright yellow, purple lilac
A great contrast to the uniformity of grass.
Wildflowers rise wild, brave, and free. Alive.
“You’re going the wrong way!”
“The school’s that way!”
I trod away from university
A universe lies between me and the others.
resonates in my mind
resonates in my bones
resonates in my soul.
“Am I good enough?”
More questions than answers flood my mind
But I doubt you have the time to answer.
You pander before the quickest release
Of the pedal that rests beneath your feet.
The bus’ engine roars, your voice quiets
My time to talk has ceased.
Image source: BlogTO
Lauryn Hill just wanted reciprocity
but see, I just want your honesty.
Did you ever love me?
not some idealized fantasy
the scarred jaded being that I am
that couldn’t live up to your expectations
and neediness and clinginess.
We fell into a mess of codependency,
We called it love,
We pretended to be happy.
Photographs cards ticket stubs
Memories of all that once was
And all it used to be
I see you in everything around me
I see resentment every time i see you
I see potential
I see passion
I see rejection
I see all I don’t want to feel
My vision is blurred and I see nothing else
I’ve reached the point in my relationship where I’m uncomfortable enough to write again. Poetry flows out of my pens like tears from my eyes, and I’m not sure how to feel.
Does anyone else get writer’s block from being too content in life?
Is it meant to heal?
Releasing catharsis through veins like gravel poured over the roses in the concrete.
Layers of comfort and complacency piled on top of each other – sedimentary rock
A natural disconnect forms an ecosystem of comfort, care, pressure, love.
Transformation so great, it’s almost metapoetry.
Fear metastasized into strength in the soul of a new being
Bonded together with pressure, incubated in an atmosphere of trust
Love is what we breathe.
It can be heard in the song of the wind
Or seen in the dance of the raindrops
free-falling from the safety of the cloud to the callous rock
Yet landing on the tender web of a spider
Spun delicately, deliberately and at the perfect time.
Dampening our fortress –
Without sacrificing the safety of its home.