I woke up one morning with a seed in my heart
And an incurable inability to ever let it grow

I held it in my palms
Cupped and concealed in overgrown cowardice  

And it never broke past the spaces between my fingers
Or through the holes in my heart

I held a seed in my heart
When my heart couldn't hold anything else
Waiting for it to spread it wings

I watered it in the stormy procession
Of four in the mornings and twenty years laters

And I woke up one day just a seed
In the heart of... this?

With a resolute inability to ever grow