i have a tim burton tree
growing inside of me
i nourish it with the cacophony of the mind
that relentlessly
speaks to me about my inadequacy

the stronger the tree the weaker i feel
no will power left to undo the theft
the black branches have committed
they were found guilty
of hijacking my presence
my higher self, my essence

the real me retreated
without putting up a fight
was it because it knew
i was not even worth the try
alone in the dark, i looked for the light
but still, cannot even find a spark

nothing else to do
but to water the plant
and the hope
that maybe one day i’ll understand
what could, should, or might be
without this darkness taking over me