She used to be alive
Not hanging on by a thread
Not worrying if she’d survive
She was living life instead
Then the lights went out
And the fears began to shout
And she sat in the dark with no desire to face another day
Out of place, out of grace
She retraced all the ways she had failed
Then she thought why waste another day?
There’s nothing left to say
Nothing left but today
Plans already underway
But there must be a reason to stay

the protea magnifica
or queen protea
as it is also known
is a south african flower
of which until recently
i was shamefully unaware
a sprawling shrub
of varying height
dependent upon
influences of its growth
but a hardy plant
nonetheless
able to survive
and to thrive
under the starkest
of conditions and habitats
its flower is not delicate
like many others
but a symbol of survival
of resilience and growth
its boldest of blooms
an array of brightest hues
sending a message
of strength and power
courage and hope
yet the tightly held
closed cup of its petals
suggests a reluctance
to be noticed
an uncertainty
of it's own true beauty
perhaps in comparison
to its kingly namesake

You thought you'd left the days of make believe behind by the time you were nine.
And yet, years later, here you are
making yourself believe you'll be okay
so you can make your baby believe the same.
Somewhere along the way,
we seem to correlate imagination
with maturity.
But what if it has less to do with growing up and more to do with surviving?
What if it's a defense mechanism?

Then, at the abyss,

a flame shoots up from us, licked --


by the total fire.