Dwell Here

Olive greens, like a warm summer day in the golden hills where the white bellies of leaves turn upwards to laugh. Yellow tones. Brown tresses that illuminate in the sun. 

So beautiful and so susceptible to a scurrying of 

negativity 

   under 

           skin. 

This moment is simple and complex, 

but please, 

dispel the anxiousness that you’re not doing enough. 

No call to do more, 

be more, 

see more. 

Just see, human. 

I promise I don’t want you to overthink. 

This is not a poem written to be elusive. 

This is not a poem written for the sake of loyalty to structure. 

These are words in which I hope you feel safe to dwell. 

Here, you can be. 

Sit here. 

Breathe here. 

It’s okay. 

The world is complicated, 

but take off the weight. 

These words don’t have to be heavy to mean something. 

Let your guard fall. 

Release your inner hurt. 

If you open your doors, I promise not to invade.