My human form has not felt quite right lately;
a floral form feels a better fit.
I stare at my mother’s garden,
aching to be a blooming begonia.
I want to grow again from nothing,
the possibilities of what I could be
and the genotypes that could blend,
so I could finally feel beautiful.
Bees and birds would flock to me,
admiring my beauty
and begging for my pollen.
Belonging and love would fill me
from petal to root,
a sensation I yearn for in my human form.
I wish to blossom in the sun,
reach my fullest potential
and feel worthy of life.
I also wish to wilt.
My physical form takes too long to erode;
my floral form would take a month.
I would serve my purpose and leave.
It would be a painless feeling;
better than being plucked
by a man who throws me on the concrete
after deciding the flower he rudely picked
was no longer as beautiful as he thought.
is to show
you lived a worthy life.