Melanie
Image Source, Milly Sime (Unsplash)
They call her ‘strong’
like the stem of a rose,
bending slightly under the weight of the sun.
They call her ‘brave’
like the patient daisy
waiting for blood to turn to water on the battlefield.
They call her ‘inspiring’
like the determined bluebell,
vibrant and beautiful and alive in the absence of great light.
But they miss the softness
in how her upturned lips mould her cheeks into plums
in how her dark eyes burn not like a flame, but like a furnace in a family home
in how her braids hang like silk against satin dress
in how her careful words wrap a thick blanket around friends
in how her mind paints the world shades of lavender and cherry.
You see, my friend is a radiant, growing thing
with all the time in the world to become the leader she already is.
Twenty-two’s too young to be a hero
when boys and vodka and Beyoncé exist.
Twenty-two’s too fragile to be a soldier
when your feet have yet to hit the ground.
by Imogen Kathleen
(also featured in Bloom I06)
Follow Imogen’s Instagram
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