Chelsia Durkee, copywriter & creative

I bathe you in metaphors dripping in gold 
Wax poetic about your kind eyes, or so I’m told 
Even if they’re devoid of emotion, I’m sold 

You’re alive, but are you living? 
You’re smiling, but are you feeling?

I have a penchant for projecting
Every fantastical quality
You can only dream of possessing 

I cloak you in honey before I even plant the seeds
I germinate on potential when I need a full bounty

They declare
You are
So sensitive
So feeling
So being  

I declare
I am
A storyteller
Rooted in song 
Grounded in me

I claw myself out of the jungle, tear through the ravine
Limb from limb, my hands raw and bloody
Soiled in your ego, soiled in your self-imposed clout
It’s no surprise I couldn’t survive, when your soul is in a drought

Why settle for your games, when I can nourish myself out?  

It takes two to tango
In the dance of romance
Not one with projections blossoming
From a desire to give, a desire to be vulnerable
So what if I feel too much?
Maybe you feel too little?

Maybe one day
We craft a love so infinite
You crave my sensitivity and
Your laughter is my medicine
You kiss my hands clean 
Every knot and well-worn groove
Serving a purpose

I speak, you listen
You swerve, I pivot 
The leaves change, colors fade
Dandelions land on your eyelashes 
Unafraid

It is enough
We are always enough

When I look back at those happily-never-afters
I understand I was never too much
My elements, perfectly proportioned
Perfect among your imperfections
Better than any fairytale

It’s inevitable
After all,

Flowers can only bloom among the weeds