A soil buried deep in my lungs
Timelessly blooms flowers.
They’re beautiful, but grow
If I could plant myself in my own shoes,
I’d walk through their splendor
I saw a much better drawing of flowers growing from lungs a while ago, and I remember being captivated by the idea that something can be beautiful and suffocating all at once. Flash forward, when I set out to write a poem, the image returned to me and quickly became the focal point. It has become a poem about restriction: do you allow others expectation to weigh you down from the inside or see them outwardly as opportunities. But as always, I just hope you enjoyed reading it!