Should I allow myself
to be flushed down,
deep into the abyss of your misery?
I once went for a stroll in the
garden of faces, all smiling at me;
it was there that I picked you,
removed the ingrown thorns,
& in my hands you bloomed.
Is it fair that I expect such a blossom
to last that many years
with all its healthy petals?

There is a certain luring
guilt in weakening
the strong.

s                                                           y
u                                                                 o
r                                 O                                u
r                               \ | /                                r
o                                 |                                 s
u                            /\                           e
n                                                   l
   d                                        f  
with your own warm water,

emerged. never experience

fresh air