Polished and refined,
With death I have found
A life below ground
A place I can call mine
Destruction and evil deeds
A breeding of pure hate
Is all that I can create
Out of all these heartless seeds

I punch them in
To the deep sullen dirt
Water them with vengeance
And a sprinkling of hurt
Tonight is the night
I find what dwells below
I don't have a key
But I can bargain with my soul
As I place it into these seeds
I am but reeds in the grass
I'm letting go
Only Heaven knows
The blackness of Hell's wrath

I plant my lifeless soul in this plot
To groom it as it grows
So slowly that nobody knows
It's the place the devil goes to rot
Watered with tears, warmed with fire
And as time stands still, never changing
This fruition of evil continues growing
Until the depths of hell can go no higher

Then it will bloom
A flowering gloom
Growing out of control
The ground will harden
In this here garden
Fertilized by my soul

Stagnant silence
From a boy who loves plants and the stars
His wonder so shallow in such grand things
I try but heart not wavelength overflow
Just sad attempts at a love story
I don't know how to overwrite

These feelings of flaws within myself and him a barrier between potential
A room not a house and this love can only grow so much without withering

I want to get high in a room with tapestry and record player
Till static
Sitting on a couch of content

I want sweetness and misunderstanding from a maple born

I want a love that tore me to shreds
With infinity in the ginko leaf I was growing in my left hand and coffee and stories and dreams in my right

But here I am settling
Like a sailboat
Forever without wave

Dear cancer plant loving boy
This room is full
This love is dry well
With parched desert skin
And the shadows we are becoming by the dimness of this love

the ground has crept
up into the sky and
the gods are right around
the corner and
the rubber sole
on my shoe
is coming off the canvas

When my kids were little
And climbed in my bed
Complaining of a headache
Or a stomach ache
I would wrap my arms around
The problem
And just about the time
They were cured
And drifting off to sleep
I would feel it.

I have had a few successes
In my life
The way I understand success
anyway.

My mother obsessed herself
With breast cancer
Until she finally had it
Then looked to me
To take it away.

I think she would trade
My life for her own.

it isn't my place
To choose.

I wonder though
At the eternal admonition
"Physician, heal thyself"

My pain
Is still very present.