Don’t pick me

From the wild

Before my skin

Wilts like a flower.

 

Don’t drown me

In the silence

Of your cracked-counter kitchen

And the reflection

In the window

across the brick wall.

 

Don’t hold me

Like a trophy earned

In a photo frame

That traps my soul

before it fully forms.

 

I am not yours to keep

In a tight, quivering fist.

I am not a present to seal,

To be wrapped in a bow.

I just want to be left alone

Until the wind whispers,

that it’s time to let go,

time to go home,

back into the Earth...