The flowers inside my head eating away
at the decaying thoughts.
I hear them when it’s just quiet enough –
gorging.

Oh Mother, I’m fixing your mistakes.
You and me – made from the same two pillars:
dependency and suffering.

I tear them down
softly, slowly –
shedding what I have seen,
like a snake peeling its skin.

Everything I have ever known,
collapsing around me,
leaving things I have loved covered in ash –
my own Pompeii.

But I’ll make my own way out of
these rotten bricks.
That is my promise to you –
and myself.