A chrysalis doesn't ask questions.

​

Becoming is ugly. 

I have bruises from where I learned

not to fear scarcity.

Knowing how to trust leaves marks

that turn to scars.

There's an itchiness to confinement that hums beneath my skin.

Maybe that vibration is--

Buzzing to get out.

Buzzing to not have doubt.

​

Cooking takes time.