Meraki

I kept myself away from you.

Flowers grow from the beds of my nails,

    it’s a secret that I can’t show.

I couldn’t risk one bead of pollen falling from my eyes into yours.

I fear that it would disappear,

    everything I had worked for,

     dissolved within seconds.

Milling through your bloodstream

    like a drop of ink in the ocean,

    I fear the unknown.

Any other skin would be okay,

    a complexion more dull could know me well.

My fallen petals could settle and rest there,

    laze atop of the waves and fall asleep there.

But I am left without a chest to rest on.

So I’ve tattooed flowers onto my skin.

I tried my best to make it feel like hers

    so I wouldn’t have a reason to let you in.

I buried her in soil but the colours still show through,

    she is the flower that never got picked.

The one I painted from afar,

    the one who has existed in my head

    without me knowing who you are.

I kept myself away from you.

Flowers grow from the beds of my nails,

    it’s a secret that I cannot show.

But, I pull them out one by one,

    roots by the thorns

    and keep them in a vase.

So that when I come knocking again,

    I’ll let myself in.

And drape ivy through the halls

    where we both have walked.