she needed something with Redwood patience to understand why her mind traveled with butterflies searching for Eden.
Said, she felt ants inside her dreams carrying away the dead.
wondered if there was no limits to how her heart could grow or communicate with anything.
I saw her quaking eyes search for a place to land back before the first words that God said.
She felt the masterpiece come alive at midnight it spoke beyond all languages, treaded outside of logic, flew outside of time, connected itself with everything alive and spoke to her with a simple grace.
Everything is already yours. Your heart is the doorway home.
She took a piece of me when she left, left an ice pick for me to play with.
Her sensitive nature understood why roots dug down in a quest for warm solace.
My heart almost closed forever, I felt the final straw detour me to wasteland.
I ran emerald frontiers in her eyes, butterflies landing on my hands their wings stained my eyelids I can't go to sleep without flying through her.
my heart headed to the outskirts of Eden imagining how she is Loving her from behind bars Her butterflies never seeking my garden.
It almost wilted.
Windy wrath almost destroyed it all.
I had to search the silence Try to understand myself through a tortured past, I had to tame your tyrant that grew inside my head.
I had to bear the weight of impatient voices that I could not repeat to anybody here but the dead already know it, Ones that died by their own hand.
I heard her thoughts breathe
our roots go past the stars hidden in our beating blood is the whisper and light of God.