bloom.

I saw a moving picture
a little red head girl was entranced by the sight of an unfolding orange flower.
That is how I feel, most days.


discovering things I thought I knew,
discovering me, in different ways.


I am picky, I am inconsistent.
I want everything, while I want nothing but honesty.


I betrayed you. I was keeping my options open,
when I told you it was wrong...
and now I, twice burned myself
and reach back for a third- 
and the flame is gone.
Why?
I am the one who turned it off.
Why am I sad?


So I write.
And I will keep doing this until
I have figured it out. Which,
won't happen... I've already smoldered the struggling spark.


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