soulgrowl

I am fingers of vines,
a soul of ivy,
refusing to stay still.

I move
forever
over everything.

I am a bush on a body
and I am a bush with roots.

I grow,
I insist.

You can try to trim me,
but it’s hit or miss.

I am a roach at night,
and a cat’s hiss
and glitter all over you when you least expect it.

That’s right.
Try and fight it.
By my very nature,
I will have my way.