Mimosa

You are a lot of easter eggs
awaiting to be found.
Subtly hidden,
in your own self-built spy shack
looking out to the world.
Will they notice me?
Will they find me beneath this 
thick layer of moss
vines outgrowing their parental roots.
A mimosa too shy to open up
too afraid to be touch
every attempt at connection
ends with boots trampling down your heart.
And so you close
you close
you continue to close 
yourself 
in 
and weed out
happiness.