Vernal Equinox

here i lie 

drowning in the petals

of flowers long forgotten. 

here i choke 

on their thorny stems

and my salty blood, 



i can feel myself dissolve into the soil;

becoming one with the roots,

and the clay, 

and the stones. 

i can’t help but feel at home

in the very foundation

of mother nature. 


this is not death, 

but rest. 

this is not the end, 

but the beginning 

that comes after. 


i guess i say it all the time. 

but sometimes to grow, 

you have to give in to death. 

i, for one, have trouble staying above ground. 

it’s so easy to sink 6 feet down. 

easier yet, 

to stay laid 

in that sweet decay. 


but i always force myself 

to claw my way out,


nails broken and bloody, 

skin thin and weak,

hair falling out — 

a corpse bride to myself. 


i have to fall apart 

so i have room to create. 

i have to fall apart 

to get things out of my skin 

and off of my mind. 

falling apart isn’t so bad. 

it’s sifting through the pieces 

that always leaves me 



but i am so much stronger than i have given myself credit for in the past. 

no matter how badly i want to rot, 

i always dig my way out 

just in time;

just before the roots wrap around my fragile limbs 

like chains 

in a prison cell. 

they want to claim me, 


but i’m more interested in reclaiming myself. 

i continue to wrap myself up 

in silky stems and floral fixations. 


sometimes a hug has to ache,

so you know it’s working,


have you ever had a hug so good it hurt? 

that’s my favorite kind of growing pain.

by iggy.venus.brown

I'm a non-binary and queer poet, and I have two self-published poetry books out. I'm also working on a novel and want to get more experience with different types of writing!

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