I grew in the most unexpected of places,
In the winter,
Underneath the silky frost,
Or at the bottom of black oceans,
I grew amongst the side of freeways,
I grew amongst blood splatters,
that ran like oil paint,
I grew in tired houses,
And on pieces of paper,
Under a 2am moon,
That cast down a spotlight,
I grew in elastic thunder,
In midnight-coloured nights,
And starving deserts,
No matter where your fist sprinkles my seeds,
I will still
Like bruised freesias,
maybe I’m not the prettiest bouquet you’ve ever clapped your eyes on,
But I’m indefinitely,
The most durable.
Always remember you are not alone.
You are loved.
Want to submit to this site and share your story, art, or article related to mental health? Email email@example.com