And what if i did remove that outer layer?
you would see me
I would be sitting in naked disgust
my face curdled from my own sour
Why can I never seem to visit the place of the pretty?
The butterfly land of hyacinth and lavender?
Fearing the simple truth of the flower
Because it is simple?
Because it is truth?
Because it is nothing I can name or wear without watching it die
How does one start again
When one has started again so many times to seemingly no effect
The growth, the change so unimaginably slow
the self hatred so rampant and boring