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