I find myself again,
what a long time it has been.
I can grow and rebirth,
my garden is my home.
.
I can grow and I can pray,
thank you Jesus for this day,
you helped me get away;
I will continue my Catholic faith.
.
This is where I close the doors
that made the castle groan—
it developed mold.
.
Black Dahlia's kingdom has come,
her petals are brown;
she decays alone.
.
Her kingdom has outgrown
the venomous seeds
that the birds refused to eat.
.
I close the portals I once opened,
and I am finally free—
no magic left in me.
.
My locket is closed
and will not be predisposed
to any peek from me;
my garden chants its prayers
where nothing in a crumbled world compares.
.
The air becomes more honest now,
less haunted, less unkind,
and I can feel my two hands
returning to my mind.
.
Like petals learning how to grow
without a breaking spell,
I leave the other worlds behind
and know myself as well.
.
And I am just Daisy, yes, that is me—
no more voices in the tree.
I send my mother's made-up shape
back into memory.
.
I walk with steady faith
that I understand myself and the game,
life is a play,
with masks and scenes
where I replay each dream until I pass with certainty.
.
The levels grow
Suddenly, I am just gold,
I will outshine what keeps my picture enclosed
inside a locket of rust and mold.
.
I am just Daisy,
no one can be me
my identity is one and only
of God and me.
________________________________________________________________________________________
End of Book 3.
Thank you all for your support! I am looking into just ONE more collection for this series. It will be short and will explain the Black Dahlia from the lens of a child -- how Daisy remembers her. I do have to flesh out the poems; I have the symbolism and theme already figured out. I am glad you enjoyed this collection! :)