April 24, 2015

 

You might think I’m just

a fifteen-year-old boy

with dirty blonde hair and ocean-like eyes

But I know I am more

way more than that

not a roller coaster or a summer day

not an essay writing machine

A blooming flower

in the late seasons

Covered from sight or sound

not expressing beauty

or freely waving in the breeze

When I hold back instead of letting it go

I’m frozen

Not blossoming, learning, or growing into my full potential

But when I bloom

petals inviting warmth

feeling, touching, renewing

Inner beauty puts a smile on faces

when I open my heart I grow

spreading joy for a moment

a gift from the earth

Sometimes it’s weeks, days, or years for seasons to pass

these seasons fluctuate like East Texas weather

the flower opens and grows

opens and grows

then returns to the state of lazy, dark, rest

The blonde-haired, blue-eyed teenager

through days of homework, sports, and family

changing every season

a happy, depressed, heart-warming flower all in one day