Broken Hybrid



for years

to look the way

beautiful people look

to fit the mold

be what other people

find value in

To be the perfect

pink blossom

a climber


pale in the summer sun

Decades of trying



and dying little by little


The facade spliced


changed by force

into the hardy stock

of my soul

Not quite me

but looking

The way

I was supposed to look

to fit the definition

squeeze into the mold

Few perfect hours

of bloom

but making those who defined

happy with results

and then



Quietly and slowly

the soul

dormant and hidden

found its voice

Vining and twining

the pieces and parts of my soul

started to escape the bonds

no longer hidden

deep in the earth

the me that is

reached for the sun

once freed

the graft was broken

Sweet the scent

bright and deep

the soul’s true color

watch me now

Strong and

As the wild beauty

from which the stock sprung

free and joyous

vibrantly my voice


and me, I’m deliriously


One thought on “Broken Hybrid

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