potted plants

while i sit waiting for myself to bloom, i think. i am dry, i am dark, and i am withering. how could i forget to do such crucial things for myself, as eat, drink, sleep, repeat. i am no longer me, but a shell. when does the person grow out of the shell again? how can i grow when i hide myself as much as possible. even if i was repotted, i would still be me. how can i become something when all i have even known of myself is nothing?

blooming is for those who know themselves and know what they are growing into. but not for me. i will become something else entirely, shedding each leaf of my past life until i am only stems. and then, then i will grow richer and more beautiful than i have ever been before; completely changed, and totally new.