Inspired by Trevor Allred to do be more intentional this summer about waking up early and writing. This is the first thirty minutes of day one. Only Trevor will understand the overall arc of the piece, but just so all you readers know: Trevor came and visited me in seattle this week. WHAT A GREAT FOUR DAYS! This free write incorporates themes, but also a lot of words we talked often about, such as: crimson, myth, solitude, overwhelming, decay, smiling flower. These words often alluded to some of our favorite pieces of poetry. Thanks for reading
Just a morning free write
If he were a flower he would be a solemn rose, trapped beneath the glass of fairy tale ideologies and hopes for happily ever after. Can you picture him there? Lonely in solitude, stem bent like a rounded spine, holding heavy the pedals of his head, the despair of his mind. The fairy tale showing the withering of the beautiful rose, the decay falling featherlike toward a small crimson heap of silky pedals beneath. This all floating towards some overwhelming choice, dependent on outside circumstance, to become a man or forever be chained a beast—to remain withered plant with rotted stem, backbone bent, pedaless stalk, facedown and indifferent in the dirt? Or, is the pedal shedding the undressing of the minds long favored myths? The added weight of hue, hoping to be heard or seen by passerby and thought beautiful? The unburdened face of the smiling flower rises from the red ash pile of moth bitten pedals, taller, standing taller still. There is nothing to bend him back down, nothing to curse him outcast beast and nothing to call him common rose. This is him, naked and tall and holding up noting but himself.
I welcome your comments!