nervonna (nervonna) wrote,


Flowering into a reality dull with grey, dusted with shame and impregnated with guilt. Where do you start to take root? Where would you find the light, blindingly white, bleached tapestry of strings, to grow? You did, and maybe that shames me just as I wonder.
Simply by being, you decided where the root should go, found the rich soil underneath all the blacks and blues. Held fast when the storms came and the others tried to keep you down. Green, bright and shining. Now I look at your petals, awash with colour and gleaming in a light that is slowly changing in the face of it all.

How can you stay untouched by this beauty? This little piece of spring, sprung from nothing but what was dead soil and dreams. Yet, there, next to you grows clover now, slowly creeping with green and red and white, slowly corrupting what tried so hard to stand fast and aloof. Slowly eroding their own stiffness and cool disdain to show their heartblood in their skin and bark. From each leaf to their own flower as more will join but for now I see but you in pink and deep red splendor, nodding to a song you hear. The wind picked it up and now hums across the fields as it comes and goes.

There is a peace where none was before, amongst the battles and cold fronts and I crave it so much I could pluck you. Only the knowledge that tomorrow might bring more of your shine if I leave and listen stays my hand. You changed me, quietly, from seed to bud, petal to seed. I will never be the same and I hum as I walk home that day, dreams of colour deep in my eyes.
Tags: petals
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