Updated: Feb 2
why did kid me never plant sunflowers outside my window?
all i know:
all i’ve got is some seeds set on the sill,
and an insatiable longing for even more.
and an explosion of dissonant ideas
splattering on the walls, hiding the floor
with spread-out sparkles and spray paint
send a messy signal to the undecided soul.
for the room, to rearrange
illustrates an addiction to change.
the same old same old is consistently plain,
& who ever really stuck with the plan?
simplicity? tried it, but creativity
demanded action, relentlessly emanated attraction.
'cause beige walls and neutral minimalism calls
like a societal Sirin singing sexy songs of acceptance,
but harlequin peace in war resonate more at core,
and fitting in was always a chore
i was never (nor will ever be) fit for.
for everything that was and is,
all that exists in the story
before & in between
& our childhoods draw lines which we
constantly color around and over, never within.
transition & tradition aren’t the same.
porcine & perfect aren’t me.
and just as I Am meant to be, i am.