i used to call it comfort
the way i reached for
a green that didn’t grow anything
just softened the edges
and blurred the ache
until fullness
felt empty
until the chaos
drowned itself in silence
until even the storm
learnt to whisper
until emptiness
felt full
i didn’t call it
escape
not then
just quiet
just something
to get through the day
but even quiet
can rot the roots
i stayed in that winter
longer than i needed to
numbed the ache
until i forgot
what it was like
to feel anything grow
but now
green
means something else
it means rebirth,
life
pushing through
thin cracks
in dry ground
it means i don’t run
when the light comes in
that i can sit still
without reaching for a way out
that something in me
is waking up
and wants to stay
May 6, 2025
May 6, 2025 at 1:43 PM UTC
i used to call it comfort
the way i reached for
a green that didn’t grow anything
just softened the edges
and blurred the ache
until fullness
felt empty
until the chaos
drowned itself in silence
until even the storm
learnt to whisper
until emptiness
felt full
i didn’t call it
escape
not then
just quiet
just something
to get through the day
but even quiet
can rot the roots
i stayed in that winter
longer than i needed to
numbed the ache
until i forgot
what it was like
to feel anything grow
but now
green
means something else
it means rebirth,
life
pushing through
thin cracks
in dry ground
it means i don’t run
when the light comes in
that i can sit still
without reaching for a way out
that something in me
is waking up
and wants to stay
escapism isn't true healing.