Oh self, gardener of mistakes.
The trees I planted grew sideways, giving shade only when I need it, never when I want.
Oh her, gardener of nervous hearts.
The tiny little buh-bump, buh-bumps of the night haunt my mind.
But they leave me thinking she's got countless petals and seeds trespassing in me.
And I am still learning if I should embrace them in the soil,
Or if I should dig them up before I get too attached.
Dec 7, 2017
Dec 7, 2017 at 4:33 PM UTC
Oh self, gardener of mistakes.
The trees I planted grew sideways, giving shade only when I need it, never when I want.
Oh her, gardener of nervous hearts.
The tiny little buh-bump, buh-bumps of the night haunt my mind.
But they leave me thinking she's got countless petals and seeds trespassing in me.
And I am still learning if I should embrace them in the soil,
Or if I should dig them up before I get too attached.
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