Lovely Garden Play

Nothing to hide anymore.
Nothing to lie anymore.
Everything is so damn clear.
So damn transparent.
I can see and feel almost everything.
Everything that I've been wondering before.

So good to have those lovely thorns,
ripping my cold hands whenever I touched them.

It's not easy. It will never be.
But somehow I have to face it.
I have to go through this garden.
Find the way to exit?
Nope. Never. Still want to play in it.
Still want to breathe those freshness.
Still want to see those beauties.
Those honey-sweet moments.

Yes, I am all covered with mud and dirts.
Gifts from the garden. Falling too many times.
And traces of thorny roses on my shirts.
Tearing off everything in their ways.
Bleeding and smiling seeing those wounds.
Collecting memorable scars. As souvenirs.

But still. I am here. Still want to play.
Still want to taste everything.
Maybe one day I will return home.
When I get tired.
Maybe.