I glow like the sun,
growing up again,
throwing out the way things were,
and thriving on a thread bare sense of self.
It’s enough, just to know that I have a vague idea of where and when I am,
and it’s enough to feel a genuine glow, on top of the pain.
I didn’t want to die before I had flowered in full,
even if my petals and leaves were trampled.
Don’t let me die, without telling the truth, one last time.