Monday morning vultures at your feet
Carelessly as you sleep
Sentimental weeping not without a blind headache
I imagine that you'd run away

I was carried to a burning landscape by the arms of trees
I dug my hands into the soil and pulled out the spine of the terrain
I love with the curiosity of acidic rain
And the fire that burns inside burns through the smother of pain

Floating onto too much too soon, to be without an impending doom,
and to shame my feelings to a newly familiar tune,
brings what was happiness
and transforms it into sitting alone in a dark room
muttering, "I was happy, I was carried into a heart by the arms of trees."