opening

a hastily written ode to crushing anxiety while trying to spin it in my head as an opportunity for personal growth B)

OPENING

 

there are some days

languid in the liquid sun

that make the flower yawn and

stretch in the breeze, feeling

the sweetness in its body

its gift of life

 

there are other days

submerged in an icy pool

that rip the breath away and

tear the bud apart, feeling

the agony and shame in its body

its wish for life to end

 

the bud is open

either way

the flower has blossomed