Evergreen (Poem)
These vines have taken root in my core.
I feel them overflow into the world,
climbing out, day by day, night by night,
feeding on whatever I can't hold onto.
==
They prick me as they grow, but I smile,
thinking of the garden I'll soon have, full of green.
This is a fresh start, somewhere I can feel calm.
But hold that thought. The vines are prickling again.
My skin is starting to crack, and I don't want the mirror,
afraid that when they come out, I'll rip in half.
==
I see the stems. I could cut them where they are.
I could take scissors and dive deep, or pour saltwater in the cracks.
But I throw the scissors away and look, every day.
It will be ok, I say, watching myself come open.
I wish I could relax, and bloom. And bloom.
There's no other way except wait, it's up to fate.