Wise Words I Never Got to Say

Flowering

They tell me I'm flowering
Like it's a pretty thing
As if a flower blooming
Is to compare to what I will be
What I am
That the blood that never leaves
The shed of a skin
The new chill in my mind
And the retching of opened eyes
Are a simple spring flower

That the boys are butterflies
And I am important now
But only for my pollen
Perfect petals
And budding leaves
Careful of your colors
The butterflies only like a few
Don't be anything but

Do I look the way I feel
Not a small pretty flower
But a withering, bloody thing
Born in hate and violence
Don't look at my roots
They are a testament
That I'm more than loving
Warped from tears and sweat
Shaped with my rage
Digging deep, deep into the earth
Searching for sustenance
That I was promised would come
But I still can't find it

Sunlight isn't what I grew on
Girlhood isn't made for it
But I guess I've grown out of that
Into the light of being a woman
Flowering if you will
Turning from the dark
All I've ever known
The harsh words of my species
Trading thistle for thorns
Because no one wants a weed
Only a mature, velvety rose

So I guess I'm flowering
A much prettier word than reality
Maybe I'll do it right
Be the right type
The right size
The right color
What ever else the right way
I'm told I need butterflies
Even if I didn't want them
So I hope I do it right
This flowering thing