oh! welcome to the house of Melis.
would you please come in?
make sure you cleanse yourself
with the withering rose petals.
before we begin,
ah, be careful!
despite the repairs,
there still might be glass shards
and crystal tears near the sill.
doesn’t the window look so lovely now?
its stained-glass acts as a prism,
reflecting the iridescence
that is in you.
next… oh my, don’t trip over her broken branches!
if you end up falling onto elm’s trunk,
her bark can tear your skin
like a piece of paper.
elm? the tree that’s growing here, of course!
she started sprouting when this house was built,
but she’s now growing out it.
do take the time
to caress her leaves,
feel her veins,
but please be gentle—
her edges are sharp.
i know this tour was done in the dark,
but here’s the issue:
she fears being too bright,
can you believe that?
she’s too in her head,
for when she is needed,
she hums, sighs, and whines
throughout the night.
her insecurity causes
her to conceal her light,
even from herself.
and that’s it, any questions?
if anything, please return
so you can
peer out the windows—the process of healing.
grip the roots of elm—the reclaiming of life.
whisper to the lightbulb to glow—the practice of kindness.
the keys are scattered outside for you,
won’t you come visit again?