I'll **** you out someday.
When tangles of roots
and tangles of branches
and tangled wisps of every breath
we took together lie
tangled in the wild grass,
brushing our knees.
Please believe.*

One day, I'll **** you out.
Poison Ivy of your thoughts
runs up and
d
o
w
n
all sorts of walls,
there's ivy draped crumbling pillars
to every hall,
and poison dripping out of your mouth
and I feel
small.

But trust me - one day, I'll **** you out.
Secrets lie in every stalk of
seacress you stole from the sea
to dress underwater labyrinths
that you planted in my barren mind.
Secretive looks wound up
in secret sighs and
secret smiles,
and what do you think
and what do I feel,
all locked up
inside sea green boxes.

Of course you're leaving my space,
I told you,
I'm weeding you out.
There's moss on gates
that have held shut cemeteries of loss.
Moss covered stones line pathways
that crisscross to form the shape of you
thinking about the afterlife.
Moss greets cold concrete
with promises of lost stories of you,
recounted with
every
mood
I've ever seen you in.

I know I keep saying this,
but I will **** you out.
Till then,
I'll save the darkness
under light leaves
for an eve that talks to me
of the wonders you held in your eyes.
Leaves that will ease me
into sleeves of warmth
made from the last time
your arms found mine.
Till then,
the last light from your words
will fight to shine through the overgrown grass,
now knee high,
till I can sight it
from a 100
                 light
                        years
                                away.
Till then,
the seeds of a heart you planted
will start sprouting into a mighty tree,
its branches spreading
a r t
across time and space.

I'll **** you out someday.
But that day is **not today.