Stuffing Flowers In Pigeon Holes

I’m bemused

a lot,


I think,

No direction at all


It seems,

I catch my reflection

staring back at me

In the bottom of the sink,

sometimes I forget myself

When I pack my bags and set out,

and sometimes I forget everything else

and find myself back at the start,

I’m bemused,

A lot,


I think,

Can’t seem to pick my feet up off the ground

even when my chest is pounding

beneath this sweltering heat,

and there are so many things

I wish I’d already said

but there are so many things

I wish I could say yet,

So why do we convince ourselves we shouldn’t be who we are?

Shoving cotton buds down our own throats and plugging our ears,

Sometimes I step away and it comes back to me,

that when people try to fit you in a pigeon hole

You can’t allow yourself to take it as a truth,

it’s only for their relief,

to simplify their own overturned brains,

and we’re all so eager to fix other people

in the hope that it’ll “fix” ourselves,

So maybe

It’s worth a try

to step away from the judgement we place on others

and stuff flowers in the pigeon holes,

to step into ourselves,

to begin an internal revolution

that cannot be seen

but is immediately felt,

and this idea seems more than plausible and feasible,

it is necessary, it is imminent

and it can begin right. Now.

2 thoughts on “Stuffing Flowers In Pigeon Holes

  1. elizabeth hodson

    Not sure about cotton buds down our throats. Why would anyone do that? Hope this is just a mental meandering not how you are feeling. lots of love N-L


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