We’re all plucked flowers
paying attention to the surface
while the reality beneath is of decay
maybe it mirrors us
Who are we when the water and sun touches us?
What is your water and sun?
How preserved is that superficial beauty we hold onto?
Is our surface just a symbol of décor
while what’s inside dies slowly
holding onto when it was once grounded
But once it became display for the world
slowly, day by day
it lost itself
stuck in a vase
taking form in the many aesthetics we run to
but uh, everyone knows a pulled flower is dying right
literally right before your eyes
and as you try to hold onto that gift of vanity and love
life overruns you
and like your shallow desires
you eventually decay along with them
wilting away inside far before you let on to your truth externally
how long will you die inside
uprooted from your truth
before you escape that lie
and get back grounded in your truth
where your roots stretch
connecting to everything deep
your dirt is your truth
your dirt is your soil
our shame is where we grow
taking ourselves out of that shame by fear
only traps us within the superficial dirt
that clings to us
never again feeling clean
no matter what we seek as our water and sun