Compost

behind the frosted glass I'm waiting watching shadows move incapable of reaching them until I can break through I'll hurt myself in doing it and surely I'll hurt you you hollowed me clean out all just so you could fit inside so close we can't distinguish either border if we tried got sick of feeling guilty so I faked it and I lied but how can you be happy when you know I'm truly not I've gone as far to tell you but apparently you forgot naive? or blind denial that what's underneath is rot just try for once and you could find the rot becomes the feed a garden can't be raised if you refuse to plant the seeds I shouldn't feel responsible for your own self-defeat

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