A Blooming Flower

I have failed, I have failed

Time races with me. A blurry peripheral view of competition pushes me through life

I see speed past by me. Beside me. Behind me. Once I slow down I then speed up

Drips of ambition fall along the curves of my bewildered face

While poundings of evil still beat against my bandaged heart

I am running, I am running

Poetically frightening; The avant garde of monsters beneath a bed

Creeping out of from my closet, like a haunting poltergeist of love

Tapping on my window at night. Threatening the favorites of my soul with such ease

A whispering tongue of malicious motivation bangs musically with my thoughts

I am fearful, I am fearful

Holding on with fierceness. 1000 veins pump confusion into my head

Clenching my eyes shut. I feel the weight of a machine forcing me upside and around again

The This Way and That Way of our minds. But all I hear is the wind slap my helpless cheeks

The Cyclone of my dreams. Tons of steel are placed beneath my wonderings

I still ride, I still ride

The greatest conquest is to heal me from these self-inflicted cuts

Invisible wounds cover my exhausted body. Black, Blue, Burgundy Illusions

Bleeding to find nirvana. How awfully belittling of me to cosign such pity

A shame to tear the passions out of a lonely, vulnerable vessel of existence

I will overcome, I will overcome

Finding glimmers of seeds within the dark holes of society from within

Digging deep inside my earth in attempts to plant gardens of intoxicating joys

To choose to bloom instead of relinquish from my struggles

The relentless nurture of watering over my own pains, my own footsteps, my own language

I must grow, I must grow

Leslieann Elle Santiago

Stylist | Writer | Curator