I hide beneath
the ocean's waves;
cursed to always be the tide,
never to be the moon.

I took a pickaxe to my heart
and chipped away the poison
clogging my arteries and
slowing my pulse to a whisper;
after years of build up
I finally curbed the beast within
but things were too good to be true.

Now my pulse beats a different tune
to what I've grown so used to
and I no longer crave the poison
that built walls around my heart
leaving me helplessly trying
to figure out what I want
and who I am
without the monster who controlled me

My words jump ship
A careless mutiny
Do they not realize their weight?
My words fly, from lips to sky
Little birds of stone
They gather in the depths of
The ocean
Brought to shore by a jealous storm
Years later
You forget, I am a fickle girl
Flush with promises to stay
But
My words are not walls
Instead they are the smoke
Veiling my escape

unable to sing, sleep, cry, feel.
With a single scar that she cannot hide,
a tome of secrets she cannot tell,
and an overwhelming fear that he'd return.

He left her,
but she left him, too,
taking away the only one who could care.

nothing here is mended, it's underneath my skin
hidden by the layers of my flesh-colored chagrin
newness i've not welcomed, or not the way i should
for i could not compel myself to move from where i stood
and so the clock has started, it's turned itself anew
keeping time despite the fact that i can't follow suit
i'm parallel to minutes, for seconds pass too quick
but i believe eventually my hands will lose their grip
it's telling of my nature, symbolic to the core
the way i want to hold onto the things that fuel the war
soon i'll be surrounded by all that i have made
the demons that i've kept inside will go out on parade
see, someone had been searching my lonely wounded heart
and piecing it together every time i fell apart
but i have reached my limit, my seeker left me be
in body - yes - in spirit - no - i'm circling this tree
its roots are the foundation, personified divine
nurtured by the fluids that are leaking from my spine
i'm mindful of the secrets stored within this source
filtered through perceptive thoughts and carried as a force
everything i'm made of are things that can't be seen
and that is why the seeker lives - to disengage the screen

the one in the middle of the yard.
They cut it down,
and replaced it.

I recognized the coverup:
New genus,
new species.

There was nothing wrong with your tree.
I won't put you in the ground;
even that seems only a temporary placement.