Secret Flower (weight listen)
By sugar.export on March 1, 2026 2:56 am
Okay WB storytime.
I am in bed being the little spoon (something I am getting comfortable with) and drifting off to sleep...
when I start getting full on sentences in my brain while holding this feeling for my conservative hometown and some men in my life who seem miserable because they think they know everything.
I realize that I have to write all this down and I end up writing this poem:
"When you think you know everything
Your thinking that you are correct in how things will play out makes you lose all potential
Sex becomes a saltine cracker that you bend over backwards for
And gender is simply one of two positions in a game
Here where all things are bleak and shadowed over by draw string blinds and the smell of cheap daily alcohol
Where sadness is the hereditary boundaries of dreams
Where grief is unprocessed cycles and outbursts
And imagination is a childhood friend you don’t remember how to talk to
Grows the most beautiful flower
Dirt fertilizer
Light after and within darkness
Two sides of a rusty coin that gets neglected down a drain and washed away in the salt of the sea
Everything becomes something else
Weight listen"
It reminds me of passages from the Tao Te Ching and although this all came from my brain, it didn't feel like it was mine but merely passed through me. I sometimes feel this way when I make music, but rarely with just words. In the end of writing and how the poem itself ends I feel relieved. That I don't have to be that person, and also that if someone feels that they are in that position there is still hope because there is always the potential to change if they choose.
You might be asking, "Why are you sharing a poem on WB? what does this have to do with your song this week?"
Welp, I made a song the day after about this poem 
Lyrics:
If I die today
I’ll cry in my head
I lie I shake
Asleep in my bed
I smile a weight
Feels finally shed
I lie awake
Remade my light
Production notes!
› Show Spoiler
Audio works licensed by author under:
CC Attribution Noncommercial No Derivative Works (BY-NC-ND)
