the white part of my eyeball illuminates

you slowly turn the blood capillaries

in my head into roots

pleasant thoughts of you 

fill my mind

forming little apple green skinny shoots

the near both ends of my mouth

involuntarily curves

causing minty green leaves to emerge

i think the image of your face

seems to be tattooed onto my inner eye lids

and the sunshine shines through my bedroom windows

 for the pink wild flowers to wake

and i do not mind

sylvia

“What am I hiding about “other people” to protect myself? Why am I so jealous of others. I am me, and the rain is lovely on these chimneys.”

all dark within now radiantly glows

my insecurities are creeping up at the back of my head,

telling me i'm not good enough for anyone or anything,

and these feelings are the only thing

that makes me sink 

into that pool of depression and agony. 

won't you let me go?

or is it all my fault all along?

or is it all in my head ?

i think i need to talk,

to talk to myself,

to my non-insecure and damaged self.