I’m growing down
Not up into the sky.
Not to a higher vantage point
Where I can see more and feel
The vastness and greatness of the world
But down, deep down
Away from ledges and windows
Down into myself
Where I can see nothing but the walls
Where I can hear nothing but my own panicked pulse
I am growing in
Not out into the world like a vine
Or a tree branch
Stretching and expanding into life
But in, far inward
Like a fungus or a cancer
That eats away the life
And leaves a trail of soft weak refuse.
I’m growing timid,
Not wise and bold
Like a sage or matriarch
But cautious and paranoid.
Like an anxiety-ridden lunatic.
Or maybe, just maybe,
I’m growing in to come out.
I’m growing down to come back up again.
I’m growing cautious to learn boldness.
And not lunacy, but brilliance.
The only way to know
Is to continue to grow.