Guess Issa journal

Bloom

Im on the palm of a stranger
Meant to be treated delicately, the fruit of my labour demolished
The strangers palm is unfamiliar, cold and rough.
Not meant for me.
Though unfamiliar, cold and rough I grew attached to this stranger in the short time we knew each other but I've been dashed, trampled on and had dirt thrown over me.
I've been abandoned and disposed of, like trash. I was meant for great things I could feel it within me.
My stranger stripped me of that though, he made me feel like dirt, as if I was unwanted.
Never meant to grow, my stranger makes me feel like I'm going to be like this forever.
My stranger trampled on me and created a hole for me to descend into.
He blocked my only light and left me in the darkness. I thought that was the end until I felt the first drops of tears...but not coming from me.
It came from above?
What is this?
Who's crying for me?
These tears touched me and I felt a shift in my perspective.
My stranger convinced me I was alone in this world. That the darkness was something to be afraid of.
My stranger had me believing that the dirt made me less than, and I should remain buried.
He was wrong.
I've been nourished.
The darkness was a blessing, it was the space I needed to regain clarity.
The dirt didn't make me less than, it fed me and humbled me.
The tears weren't crying for me, they were giving me a lifeline.
Giving me support, showing me the world is all I need and it will be my shoulder to cry on.
My stranger walked away believing he buried me.
I've grown and I continue to grow, I've burst through the dirt and the hole I was once in and I'm standing high.
I was once in the palm of my stranger and now it is he who lurks in my towering shadows.
I was never and will never be buried.