And we’ll die
like a lemon dried
seeds that become stuck in pulp
of unfinished needs

I was angry
that you wouldn’t believe
when I would say
I couldnt be
one of the rocks
who would never leave
who would only stay
and would only stop
who couldnt breath
and you would always of thought
what little I brought
would never be mine
since it was always here
this whole time
and I
could pause the clocks
match its pace
and synchronize
and the base of the hour glass
must now fade into the past
for now, all that reminds
must be seen a bough
to a branch