I used to think I was a gardener
sowing lifelong seeds
pruning the leaves to ensure
I had the pleasure to grow old with them

I learned my precious plants
can choose to leave
I even learned they knew
how to wilt themselves into the dirt
I watched as nature took some before they even bore their fruit for me to see

I used to think I was a gardener
but I am just the sexton
to their graves

He’s seen the rise, he’s seen the fall,
The hands of fate, he’s touched them all.
Through love and loss, through war and peace,
His journey never finds release.
A wanderer with weary eyes,
Chasing moons in endless skies.
No start, no end, no final stand—
The Forever Man.
Through ages old and years unborn,
He walks the earth, weathered and worn.
A face untouched by time’s embrace,
Yet burdened by each fleeting place.
He’s watched the empires rise and burn,
Loved and lost with no return.
The hands he’s held have turned to dust,
Yet onward still—because he must.
The forever man.

I am a wicked creature
lurking in the dark corners of the Earth.

From years of bleeding,
my heart has turned to stone.

It loathes and resents
your foolish mortal desires.

All the callous betrayal
has transformed me into this monster.

So I sit in my den of evil.
A wretched abomination deserving of this fate.

Drinking the blood
of those who I can deceive.

Hating this world
and the life that was stolen from me.

Wondering every night
if I can ever feel human again.

A life of many,
A life of not.
To know any,
To know rot.
I have seen,
for what I have not.
I have done to know,
That I cannot.
Escape my rage,
For I have wrot,
Is my own cage.
A nightmare,
That I broken.
A sage of mirrors,
For I have sought.
No reflection,
No dedication,
Anything I have knot.
Everything is futile,
For it is eternally mine.

I shiver, the cold bites deep,
The world an open book—its lessons steep.
It whispers, You must not be you,
Yet mocks when doubt clouds my view.

They judge, yet say, Oh, just don’t care!
If it’s so simple, then why not dare?
I know—I swear—it is not my crime,
To defy the mold, to stretch past time.

I will rise, a tempest untamed,
Like the moon that calls the sea unnamed.
Not a thief of borrowed light,
But a fire that burns through endless night.

Underdogs walk with voices hushed,
Not for lack of spark, but trust—
For even silence shapes the great,
A force unseen, yet sealing fate.

Love is ******* you up the ***
And spitting in your mouth agape
And beating the **** out of you
And choking you until you're a purple hew
Love is biting you
And cutting you
Love is taking your money and buying
*******
Love is never calling you past 5
And 1 text a day
Love is breeding nothing
But confusion
Love is a word
I love you