Germination

I need you to come to me raw.

Cut open.

Bandages ripped off.

They didn’t do anything for you but hideously disguise your wounding as something that is not to be seen.

I need you to come to me broken open, tethered shell falling off from what has been so desperately trying to emergence.

I need to see the bud of your seedling struggling to come to light and air.

I. Am. Here.

Waiting on you to burst out from all that buried bullshit Life’s lies have kept you hidden from.

I need you to come.

Up to the surface of all this rubble so I can reach out and embrace your beingness.

I. Am. Waiting.