Sprawled out
Under two different trees
On opposite sides of the city
Connected by hearts
And by cell phones.
Under this tree I fled from
The scolding words of my mother
Telling me you were no good.
I fled not to the tree
But to the promise of your calming words
It was under the maroon leaved tree
Where I spent summer nights with crickets and fireflies by my side
And you in my ear.
How come I did not listen to my mother?
I soon noticed the leaves dying off
Crumbling and tumbling
Just like your interest in me.
I heard the whispered winds and your dwindling spirit
I felt the icy chill
And the bitter bite
On my skin
And in my heart.
It was under this tree
That you told me you did not love me.
That your affections had migrated south
Towards her warm and juicy fruit
That had been tempting towards being ripe for months.
She was a peach
But I am homemade jam.
You cannot survive the harsh freeze without me
But every time I look out at that tree
I am reminded that everything comes to an end
And if you can't survive the cold,
Then I'll just let it be.
Next time it burns
I'll tell it to the tree
To the bark
To the busy beetles under her skin.
She will stay
Steadfast
And listen, like you never did.