Seed of Unworthy
the rush to wake up became startlingly absent.
i wanted to talk, every moment the day allowed me space to. i imagined the things we’d talk about and the serenity in your voice.
(maybe i’ve outgrown you. every river i’ve ever lied near has dried up. every mirror i’ve ever looked into had a face that didn’t look like my own. the hands of my father never knew how to braid my hair, he only knew how to brush things under the rug.
and people ask me why darkness takes over my sky.)
i have the space to give but never to give in. something about vulnerability; not wanting to expose every crevice of my insecurities. too often i’ve hid under a mask of complacency to hide face.
who hasn’t?
there are feelings unspoken. many things you’ll never know. when you fall in love, you step onto a crossroad. you can see soft glimpses of your wonderful future and in that same sight, visions of your past can tug you away from your journey. how you sway is up to your mind.
i confronted the seed of ‘unworthy’ growing in my garden. i whispered to its fears and drowned it in water. i buried it under the plot of self-doubt.
yet your heart opened with spikes, despite my ritual. i love too deeply to let it simply pass. the day we met i said i wouldn’t give the emblem of my heart to just anybody. i prayed you didn’t become just anybody.
the moon doesn’t ask for permission to shine, why should i?
