It is in the garden of decay
where I learned about life
and how tenacious it is
no matter what the species
for example my brother
barely human by now
life lessons learned on
the back of death and
I think of a bumper sticker
I once saw, "Hard to ****"
No doubt yet being half
dead is an acquired skill

In a word, he is an atrocity

But consider this:
back to my garden where
miracles bloom even in
the stone cold of winter
A root has climbed around
A cocktail glass I sent sailing
in a fit of rage, in the dewy
promise of spring no less
and while hate raged in
the kitchen these two
singularly hopeless and
ugly broken things formed
a union that even throwing
more glasses at cannot tear
assunder

Well, tear ME assunder
why don'tcha?

Nope, being such a *****
has lost me that honor

Sincerely, Hard to ****