When I was just a little tulip, I loved the warmth across my face, I opened up beneath the morning, Never questioned my own shape. I thought the soil beneath me Was the only place I'd need, But something hollow lived inside me, Though I never knew the reason why. Then seasons came and seasons left me, I learned to grow the way I should, I wore the colors people gave me, And told myself that they looked good. For years, that hollow feeling faded, I thought I'd finally found my ground, Until I saw a field of flowers And something in me turned around. There was a sunflower by the window, Tall and golden, dressed so bright, I stared at it a little longer Than I ever thought I might. I wish I was that flower, But I don't know what that means, Would I still be who I am If I grew from different seeds? There's something warm about the thought, Something peaceful in my chest, I can't explain why I want it— I just know it feels like me. I used to think that wanting mattered Only when you knew the cause, So I kept asking myself questions Till the answers came undone. Was it the petals? Was it color? Was it how it seemed to stand? Or was I simply looking at it And wishing I could understand? Maybe I want another body, Maybe I want another name, Maybe I want to change the petals, Maybe nothing stays the same. Maybe I want softer features, Maybe something new to wear, Maybe I could see my reflection And finally feel comfortable there. Maybe I don't need a reason, Maybe wanting can be enough, Maybe I've been calling “wrong” What was only unfamiliar stuff. If a flower leaves its garden, Does it stop becoming a flower? If I choose a different shape, Would that make my life less ours? That sunflower by the window Still looks beautiful to me, And I don't know if I want it Or if I want to finally be. I wish I was that flower, And I don't know what that means, Would I still be who I am If I grew from different seeds? There's something warm about the thought, Something peaceful in my chest, I can't explain why I want it— I just know it feels like me. Maybe I was never broken, Maybe I was only growing, Maybe all I needed first Was the chance to start knowing. I wish I was that flower, Now I'm less afraid to say, Maybe I don't need permission To imagine a different shape. If the sun can touch new petals, Why can't I reach for the light? I don't know what I'll become yet, But the thought of it feels right. Little tulip, keep on growing, You don't have to know the end— If you find a form that feels like home, Maybe that's where you begin.
