Flower in my Pocket
Location
In my time of need, words rushed me
Incoherent and strangled words
Fearful and swarming in my mind
So I took them into my hand
And stuffed them into my pocket
They became scattered and sullied
Questioning as they sank further into the darkness
Whispering to create a hum
I hid from their questions
Ignoring the distant buzz
As if they were just a fly
A bug lost to the wind
But as the day went on
I still heard them, and it stung
They questioned my honor
They questioned my strength
And I wondered
What would it take to quiet the sounds
Now pulsing in my ears?
The guilt, the strain, the weakness and fear
What does it take to be stronger than I am?
In a thoughless moment
I took out those words
Now like a heavy stone in my pocket
But in seeing the light
The words ceased to disturb
And I had a rose in my grasp
Its thorns brushing my palm
It looked weak, close to death
I realized it had only known darkness
And I felt as weak as the thing in my hand
The air felt cold
My heart a vulnerable petal
Upon a lilting little flower
The wind whipped and tugged
And I gripped the stem
Blood drawn quick, red as it slipped
My eyes did shift to the light in the distance
A love I had not noticed before
My legs feel strong now
Fighting against the wind
Flower in my bleeding hand
I now have new meaning to stand
And it feels like the sun is coming up again