little rosebud.
the vines encompass me,
suffocating me in its claws,
pulling me under,
drowning me in the soil
that i had been planted in.
it tugs at my heartstrings,
enticing emotion,
enticing fear,
enticing loneliness,
enticing a lack of
belonging.
they tear at my throat,
preventing me from speaking,
screaming,
anything.
i am alone.
the thought incapacitates me,
and my muscles relax.
my breathing slows and becomes
a steady
thump in my chest.
i close my eyes.
i am not alone.
i open them yet again and
i look around and see a dozen faces
calm,
kind,
warm,
welcoming.
i am not alone,
and every breath i take becomes a little
easier as the vines collapse around me,
freeing me.
i am not alone.
i am not afraid anymore.
i am a little rosebud
in a field of many
who has finally found the courage
to bloom.
