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So i woke up this morning still surprisingly hurt from last nights mild nightmare.
As i stare onto the cold white vained
ceiling of my small enclosed room, my mind enters into a pit of sorrow. A sorrow that is not just a sorrow;
but an empty sorrow.
A sorrow that has absorbed all the storms in the cloud filled sky awaiting to come, and dropping them onto my small circle of a head.
Now i know this might sound weird, but i like to think of my head as some sort of flower.
The flower that you see while walking through the park on a lovely eventful tuesday that is expecting a three hour storm. The three hour storm that seems like an eternity.
The three hour storm with the hellish droplets of ice cold water, all different, and somehow being absorbed by me.
Me.
My head.
The flower.
The flower that you see while walking through the park on a lovely eventful tuesday.
It might be surprising to you but as much as i hate those hellish icy droplets of water,
I cant take a breath without them.
because they are a part of me.
The reason why i stand tall
The reason why i am sun yellow, and not a sad blue.
The reason why i am still alive even when i am being squashed by the bottom of a filthy dirt filled shoe..
Without those hellish icy droplets of water that fall on a lovely eventful tuesday,
I would not be who i am today.
Now, soon this flower will bloom.
Grow stronger, taller...
Stretch its sun yellow coated petals out so the whole planet sees their beauty.
And till then
That one beautiful sun yellow flower won't be beautiful for so long.
There will be a day, one faithful day,
When that flower that you see while walking through the park on a lovely eventful tuesday, the tuesday that is expecting a three hour rainstorm of hellish icy droplets of water....
Will be picked.
Ω
