I gave my hand, leaving it hanging
                   there like a bare branch
of unfulfilled swaying.


You just looked down at
it as if  I were dead wood.
                I was felled by your
ignorance, they say trees
make no noise when they fall.

I'd taken out the hillside of respect
for you when mine fell to my side.

          Offered a branch
and you
       felled it for your ignorance.

Never again shall I offer you an
    extension, you'll fall alone
            in the woods of regret
no branches to lean upon...

A knot of truth hangs over me,
more a promise that all things
      come together.

Were a straight line that if
    you take enough steps
leads to an amphitheatre of

                         echoes

reverberating around and around
         resonating with this truth

that all things have a balance.

We start, end, doesn't matter if we
                   stand still of reach for the

heavens..

Eventually we'll just swing silently
                like a extinguished light bulb

hanging dead in the abyss.

Hanging off my limp branch,
             tucked away in there

soft shell..

      These nuts only ever

******

               no nut crackers here .

Haven't wrote in a while my
               words stutteringggggg.....

repeating the words

                     before that

duplicating expressive
                      alterations.

that sounded different!

A particular vibrant diversity,

worded, formulated..
           effectively resonating, echoing

in the same flow that seems different
     but cascading within contrasting similarity's..

Ill never write with the constructs
of ink no matter its shading,
                as it has no edges, no fear or freedom.

Instead I use a scalpel to cut clean words
even though not evidentially visible
             all cuts have meaning.


But ever metaphorical stain takes
         time to show its meaning..


You may not see what I mean
         i write in a different manner to


                                    you.
            

But let time show the interpretation
                     that was there but never understood


till you looked beneath the incise significance
               even if not seen now,

                         just realise its there...

Someone said I was a seed that
                         would grow deep.
But you pulled me before I had


the chance to grow between the
                      fallen brothers that
                             were taller.

But you quarantined me in this
                            this place.

Potted, you told me that I'd grow
                   further than the family

I'd left behind.


   It was a moment
                of concern that I'd never

reach the lengths of my brothers
         and sisters. yet you put me
   higher than they'd ever reach...  

They fell beneath me,
  

                   But no ,matter who falls


were the same branch and we will
                                      always reach further

than my silence as we'll always be



                            reaching further than

than the hate that tries to keep us

       lower than the furthest branch
that we can grow  from the desert of your
            infertile earth.

Always discharging  projectiles  to the left hand side
of my perception, misguided attempts to  traumatise
                             every aspect that follows your breadcrumbs.


But I'm not one to follow the hunger of love,
         bruises show the path that was unyielding
to the malleability restricting my tangibility

            of every needing.

Wondering on the grains that you cant follow,
                       I told you I was always here..


I walk barefoot, so that you can t follow the steps,
             that you brought.


    Its hard for your love to fathom that i no
longer need to follow the footsteps of tears..

Mine are dry and you'll never follow me...