Stop salting your soil
Stop ripping your roots
Stop grating your grass
Start calling a truce
Start reeping what you sow
Start watering and it'll grow
Communicate
Appreciate
Never hesitate
Or the sun will
Not elevate

It's inside you,
You're holding it all in your hands.

Pinching pins,
                               Up and down my curve
Napping needles,
                                In the nape of my knee
Sprouting stings,
                               Stabbing the span of my soma (body)
Swelling sores,
                            Has my soma aching
Psychologically speaking,
*I just don't want to be in pain for the rest of my life

It burned,
Worse than a diagnosal disease
Why did you have to do this to me?
I remember the spark of life in your eyes as you were choking me
Convincing me, it was a part of a dream that would not repeat
After the second time
After the third time
After the fourth time using your hands to paint me black and blue with your anguish
I could not be coaxed by your convention with my eyes swollen nearly shut and only red and bright stars were visable
You cannot buy my heart to break my spirit,
You cannot break my spirit and think buying my heart will heal it
While you're trying to **** it
I got out because I willed it
I still feel the anguish you painted on me
The black and blue went deeper than my skin
Deeper than my thoughts, it has painted my subconscious

Two cracking cackling clinging broom witches creaked into the closed cavern.
Combinding concoctions to create a cocktail of concretional chaos in their bodies. Coming time to close those crusty eye sockets, deathening sleep creaps on them.