Perhaps I am a cactus.
Perhaps,
there are needles
protruding
from my skin
to prove how soft
i really am.
A saguaro,
only hollow
by the birds
who make nests
in my chest.
Perhaps,
I will flower
once the rainy season is over.
I will drink deep of this muddy sorrow
and my skin will swell
warm
and green
and well nourished
by the sky.
Perhaps,
it will be
the most beautiful
blossom anyone has
ever seen
and people will travel
miles
just to
admire.
Perhaps,
they will wonder
how my flower
came from such a
spiny
thing
And Perhaps
I will tell them.
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
Perhaps I am a cactus.
Perhaps,
there are needles
protruding
from my skin
to prove how soft
i really am.
A saguaro,
only hollow
by the birds
who make nests
in my chest.
Perhaps,
I will flower
once the rainy season is over.
I will drink deep of this muddy sorrow
and my skin will swell
warm
and green
and well nourished
by the sky.
Perhaps,
it will be
the most beautiful
blossom anyone has
ever seen
and people will travel
miles
just to
admire.
Perhaps,
they will wonder
how my flower
came from such a
spiny
thing
And Perhaps
I will tell them.
