I wrote this piece some time ago and didn’t include it because of its minor chord tones. I include it today for all those who have ever been told that they need to be quiet, tone down, dim their light, or fold up into a little speck of dust because they are too much for the world to bear.
I won the “poetic waxing” award at my paper, and fellow writers thought I should win the “heart on the sleeve” award as well.
I wasn’t sure what to make of that. I haven’t always been open like this you know. Open, expressive, and vulnerable. Willing to risk looking foolish by declaring my love and longings. My adoration of people.
No, this blossoming of these petals were once tight in the bud, and I liked it that way. Careful, guarded, unyieldingly private was I, keeping my would-be-bloom under the glass like Beauty’s rose in the Beast’s castle, afraid it would die with a single exposure to air.
And now? Now that I’ve lifted the bell jar and welcomed a throng of visitors off the streets to my chambers? Opened my soul with words and loving embrace as if it were my last day on earth?
Would I be so again?
I’m not sure.
I’m not sure. At times the the pain of being peered at and plucked is sometimes too much for me, and so today I shall be silent. I shall close my chamber doors and place the glass over my bloom.
I shall only smile this love of mine and say nothing more. I shall let others be the ones to speak kindness through the cracks and I shall breathe it in.
It’s not because I don’t love, it’s because I love, perhaps too much. Too much for this world of cynics, of which I pray to never become a part.
Stay tuned for my fresh epiphany on keeping a full personal expression in bloom.