How long have you spent hiding behind closed doors?
Just waiting...
For the day you could fnally be yourself
How many days has it been since you've shed
The flowered scales that disguise your honesty
The ones that help you grow lies on the roof of your mouth
Just so your audience would coo in admiration
How many restless nights have you spent
Planning and Plotting
Planting and Potting
Only for your poinsettas to sprout thorns
Pricking you as you trim them and
Bury them under tufts of grass and soil
You hold your halo high towards Helios' Chateau
Hoping that one day you too will amass enough sunshine to cultivate
A world of your own
But do you ever stop to sleep on your bed of flowers?
And bask in the blossoming garden?
To inhale the fluttering jasmine petals that
Wind themselves around your arms and
Catch in the strands of your hair?
To run the coarse soil of your failures
Through the web of your fingers
Or fondle the roots of your success?
Take a moment to stop and bathe in the ganges
Holding hands with the water's goddess
Instead of driving your cursed spear
Through her every wave.
Spilled Ink 