Bloom Without Permission

I kept waiting for a sign

a green light, a gold star,

Someone clapping from the sidelines

like: yes, you may now become yourself.

﹁﹂

Meanwhile my life sat in the corner

like an unopened package

I was scared to tear into

In case it wasn’t what I ordered.

﹁﹂

I watched other people glow online,

perfect angles, perfect timing,

and I shrank to match the screen,

small enough to fit in their comment sections.

﹁﹂

Then my body got tired of holding back.

It started craving sunlight

the way a mouth craves water

not politely. Not quietly.

﹁﹂

So I bought bright paint

and ruined two shirts

and laughed alone in my kitchen

because the mess felt honest.

﹁﹂

I went on a walk without tracking it.

I cooked something spicy

just because I like it,

not because it’s impressive.

﹁﹂

No one applauded.

The world kept scrolling.

A car horned somewhere.

Life stayed ordinary.

﹁﹂

And still

something in me opened,

petal by petal,

loud in its own silent way.

﹁﹂

Maybe blooming isn’t a performance.

Maybe it’s just refusal

refusal to wait for permission

from people who never planned to give it.