Wild Honeysuckle

The path I walked today was winding and uneven,
Rocks for stumbling over and branches obscuring the way.
And all was draped in the fragrance of wild honeysuckle.

So sweet, I risked the bees.
I stopped to take a deeper, fuller breath.
I want to be -that- sweetness to you,
I want the scent of me wrapped around your tongue,
cloying intoxication that pulls you closer.

You tell me to be. Be myself.
That I am. And that I will be. Beautiful to you.

I am. Being. Myself.

I am myself, the one who spilled her fears to you.
The one who sometimes cannot bear your glance;
She might liquefy into a puddle of girl goo.

I am myself, the one who sits before you in all of her flaws.
The one who wants to love you so fully,
That she's afraid she'll be swallowed whole.

Loving me is not easy.
But neither is the path where the wild honeysuckle grows.