Undercover as it were,
more here than ever
I could have been
elsewhere.
Wanted to be myself,
to show every fold of my reality.
Open up my skin,
faded instead, crumbling in on itself.
In yogi position, I hid.
To block unwanted emotion,
be it Rage or the Recovery of the Aftershock.
Earth-rumbling effects,
if I dared to speak,
if I dared be Me,
if I closed my leaves,
to Reflect.
And in it, I shook.
Trees dropping seeds
in an empty brook,
floating or sinking
with weights of my world.
I waited there after,
in the discomfort of calm.
Silence so silent,
as ashes post bomb.
Fall still there, undead,
but waiting to be.
Waiting there, wondering,
what happened to me.