narcissus
the daffodils bloom every spring, and yet, here you are, unchanged.
yellow is the color of hope, and yet, you are surrounded by despair.
you wait every winter but never bloom.
you have been told your whole life you are worthless, but it is not your fault.
how can you bloom when the weight of others is holding you down?
one day you will walk away.
because, maybe, after six years of being told you are not enough, like the daffodil,
you wait until the harshest of seasons to rise.
For more on how I’ve been doing, see my latest’s post.
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