Confessions of a Self-Proclaimed Wallflower

I am a wallflower.

I hear more than what is said,

I see more than what is presented,

And without explicit confirmation,

I understand.

Beneath my cold and distant exterior

Lies a realm of beautiful contradictions.

A red-hot volcano boils over with

Thousands of sweet and exquisite secrets.

An ominous storm cloud deluges

Bright ideas and endless knowledge.

A violent waterfall trickles down 

Tenacious hopes and dreams.

All driven by passion, these

Entities produce nourishment for a

Radiant and flourishing garden.

As I observe the world around me 

With a strange hypersensitivity—

Bright colors, strong scents,

Bold tastes, clear sounds—

I subject myself to a state of sheer

Inebriation. It causes me to introspect.

When I close my eyes, the

Universe within me comes alive...

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As I emerge from my inwardness.

I hold a bushel of delicate flowers—

Flowers unlike any others

Found in the outside world.

They are the fruits of my 

Heart, mind, and soul.

I must plant them.

But even the most fertile lands

On Earth would be unable to

Sustain such ethereal beauty.

And so, with my pen and my notebook,

I begin to plant my flowers,

Recreating the radiant and flourishing 

Garden that lies within me.