Lying in Bed #2

[I don't feel like the underdog anymore
    And people need that to continue doing what they feel so good about doing
    Otherwise, they're just the villains]

I'm a bit more a shadow with every passing day
With flour powdered on my face, and those dark eyes of mine getting darker
Falling back into my head, and there I can see my thoughts
While my ribs tighten, and my breath slows
And I can see how they refuse to be rounded up anymore
They're too worried, made shy by the light of all those eyes I see you using
As they search through me for some last shred of good that you can use to heal your leopracy
    [Or your common cold that has caused you to have trouble at work lately]

That garden I would have loved to walk through alone for the rest of my days
Is wilting

    [I try to care for it, but it doesn't want my help, it's my fault it's dying anyway]
    [    Is it a fair trade? My thoughts and heart for some sort of connection with another human being?]

The moonflower is twisted shut like pasty icicles hanging off the vine
The butterfly flower no longer on fire, burning in the sun, the monarchs don't come 'round here anymore to listen to my humming
And gomphrena why don't you show that red, so thick it looked as if you had no end, you just spilled on my hands, made me believe in things
Oh Calendula with that blooming bowl that held up all my hopes from time to time, the petals pealed back by God's gentle hand
You're all somewhere else now, somewhere without roads or wills, no flesh to be found there, just good soil and sunlight
And I'm left here to think of the world and it's accidental way
Trampling through gardens, making ill the strangers they meet, overstaying their welcome everywhere they go
    Though, not on purpose, no--it's just a perpetual circular motion, like falling down a long staircase

    [All I have is faith in humanity now]

I can't trust those well dressed intellects with knowing my well-being
They build their homes out of recycled money, with recycled hands
No more trust, no more believing in the great service we claim to give, to everything outside of ourselves
I can only have faith
    I can only have doubt
        They are one in the same
            And we are all one in the same...

We are all treading on each other
Absorbing those small cuts of light we get each day
Our feet fighting beneath us for whatever we can take

However...
I believe if I had any say in the matter, my color would change each day
And I would grow until you cut me down, to be left in a vase on your kitchen table
To be talked about for a few hours every now and then
How spirited I am, how wonderfully toxic my colors seem to be

No shame though,
It's the way of the world
To take the beauty we see and try to keep it for ourselves
Make our surroundings a bit brighter so we don't get so down
Tie the sun to a wire so it doesn't leave us so quickly, we can keep a few more hours to ourselves
Stepping on insects that scare us
    [The way they look is sickening]
Pushing our children into cut-outs they don't quite fit into
And mowing the lawn twice a week so it looks well kept and not so wild
That wild way of living can really take control from our green hands

I believe if I had any say in the mater, my color would change each day
And I would grow wildly until you cut me down
    [Or until they cut me down]
Because it seems to me, it's our only choice
Do what we want as long as we can
Until we're made into some fancy decoration
    "Oh, he was a great man, that's why I wrote this book about him"
    "Her life was so interesting, I thought it worthy of a film"
    "He was the love of my life, so I married him"
I'm not sad about it, nor am I angry
Because honestly sometimes that vase is more comfortable and better fitting than that wild field
And it's never a bad thing to be admired for one's beauty or life
It's just a shame that we'll have to be destroyed by the ones who admire us
To be killed by the very things we tried to love more than ourselves
It's the type of funny situation that makes one stand in confusion
Eyes fixed upward,
Wandering from star to star,
Wondering if God is really up there watching,
                    listening,
                        loving...

    [I'm just a potted plant, left to grow however I wish
    The illusion of that wild, wild place that I'll never know
    Admired with each passing eye, but those passing eyes are few and far between
    But it's living]

But if I'm really here--in this pot--dreaming the distant dream, with my roots and limbs outstretched
If I am really here, then I am cared for
I am being watched over by some larger presence than myself
But if I am not here, absent of this place, I am out there in that wild, wild place
Where we flowers might grow as we please

    If we are alone, we are free
    If we are graced by something greater than ourselves
    We are loved

No need for chaos
No need for fear
Because freedom and love are the only things worth all of this
So don't fear that wild place where no light reaches when the sister sun hides
And no darkness gets in when brother moon is away looking for her
Don't fear the hand that peels off your petals either, because it's for a purpose
It wishes only to take care of you

Yes, I believe if I had any say in the matter, my color would change each day
And I would grow how I wished...

Wildly, wildly, wildly...oh, so wildly