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.