Poetry

If I were a flower
I wouldn’t pick myself
I’d let myself grow into full bloom

  Would’ve never seen these beautiful wingsIf it wasn’t for the change of thingsSitting in a cocoon of isolationInstead of a cocoon of transformationChange took more timeNot with the physical but with the state of mindFear – the nowhere fast catalystBut the faith needed was just a bitTo let go

I promised… Not to be that woman. The one who closed herself off because she had, once too many times, been hurt. Nevertheless, I closed all doors, put my baggage away, and put a disguise on my face. So that no guy could come into my space. Because my mind,

All the growing she did
She hadn’t completely let him go,
All of those emotions swept under a rug in a room used no more…