The Awaited Bloom 🪷

Poem ~ when I leave before them.

When I die— if I die before them,

they will grieve, weep, and regret.

But like a lotus blooming in a smelly swamp,

once withheld by smothering algae,

I'll depart with the trial I came with,

the one that hung around their necks.

For even as they mourn,

beneath and between their sobs

lies a breath of relief from a burden,

for the necks are free of the weight I came with,

and the lotus has bloomed in a smelly swamp.

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Afterword 🩶:

The lotus blooming does not speak of my salvation.

It blooms as a metaphor for their relief from the burden of my existence.

The weight I carried as a woman, a daughter, a trial they were bound to, melts away once I am gone.

I was the algae clinging to their petals, unknowingly withholding its spring.

And when the swamp, signifying death, swallows me whole… the lotus finally blooms freely above the remnants of my dead body.

It is not a celebration of the end, but an observation of how my absence, though saddening, unburdens the world I leave behind.

P.s- I am not depressed loves, it’s simply an observed truth that survived a pre mature death in far too many daughters. (ᵕ—ᴗ—)