“I don’t understand you.”
You might if you noticed.
“I don’t know why you (insert everything but the one thing you like here).”
I know you don’t, hide-bound in
You see only one side of the umbrella of me turning a blind gaze upon me when I twirl~
dancing in the rain.
You see only my back – or worse,
only the footprints I leave when I wander through the unmapped forest~
There’s wolves there… and witches.
Which scares you the most?
You cannot grasp that I am both.
You want me to be just one thing.
You want me to be your version of me,
your vision of me sacrosanct in your imagining,
your security, your comfort, intact.
you cannot force me to answer to one name,
for your convenience or safety, coward.
I am not a single flower, mother-fucker,
I’m the whole damn Garden.