The unusual state of my brain
is forever my life’s greatest pain
whenever a thought is in reach
my mind instead grabs the bleach
and removes the idea like a stain
Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 5:07 AM UTC
Oh Brown-eyed Beauty
this morn, you look so forlorn
What has you so troubled?
Through daybreak haze, I
follow her gaze, hear her sigh
Why would they take him?
She takes one last look
as he is hung on the hook
then she resumes her graze
Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 4:49 AM UTC
there is a plant in my room that,
with no rhyme or reason,
withers and droops and snaps
whatever the season.
at times when there is plenty of sun
streaming through,
enough for its buds to open
and leaves to unfurl
they remain closed tight
against the light
i do too.
there is a plant in my room that,
when oxygen is inhaled and
carbon dioxide absorbed,
it picks up its branches and tries
to let the warmth reach its skin,
to bring back its colour and bloom a little.
but the light does not warm any deeper
than a layer or two
and when the exchange is over and left
it droops again
i try too.
there is a plant in my room that
can sometimes forget its water
and its dirt that keeps it grounded.
though it knows that
its roots will shrivel,
and its petals will fall,
that the watering can will gather dust
and its tray will fill up stagnant
till the sheer weight of negligence
can tip over its *** and scatter its soil
i forget too.
there is a plant in my room that
knows one day the sun will stop streaming
and warmth won’t reach.
that no buds nor leaves will remain to hold tight.
that gaseous exchanges cease.
that layers will shed and bare branches.
that roots will disintegrate,
and that water will evaporate.
it knows one day it won’t find its way back
after tipping over one last time.
that its soil will find other
weeds to keep alive
and it will decompose.
and i will too,
for there is a plant in my room that
dies when i do
May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 3:25 PM UTC