everyone is becoming
everything is becoming
the grass wakes up in pulses of green
trees stretch into themselves again
birds rehearse joy like a familiar script
and
I
a bare tree
not dead
just undecorated
too naked amongst the luscious
I sit in the middle of blooming
like a teenager who missed the cue
my skin doesn’t feel new
the light touches everything with tenderness
except me
skipping over
like I’m not ready
or not worth
or not
yet
maybe this is my season of pause
maybe
but maybe
I’m just behind
and it’s hard
watching the world dress itself in celebration
while I stand here
unbuttoned
unfinished
unbecoming
Apr 6, 2025
Apr 6, 2025 at 6:40 PM UTC
everyone is becoming
everything is becoming
the grass wakes up in pulses of green
trees stretch into themselves again
birds rehearse joy like a familiar script
and
I
a bare tree
not dead
just undecorated
too naked amongst the luscious
I sit in the middle of blooming
like a teenager who missed the cue
my skin doesn’t feel new
the light touches everything with tenderness
except me
skipping over
like I’m not ready
or not worth
or not
yet
maybe this is my season of pause
maybe
but maybe
I’m just behind
and it’s hard
watching the world dress itself in celebration
while I stand here
unbuttoned
unfinished
unbecoming