When the stars come out
They should find me
Desolate, dead
Too far gone to shine upon

They would find my skin limp
As limp as skin can be
Dried out
And my bones too hollow to fill

The stars, in all their glowing glory
Will shrink farther away
No one, no thing
Could love the dead
Such as me

My eyes will be sanded over
No moisture will be left
My wrist will withered
And my knees will be crushed

I'll be a cave of empty wonder
Where there was a heart
There is none!

My lips part out in a muffled scream
The slowest scream the stars never heard

The night sky will look upon me
And detest the rest of this dead race
Because what kind of being
Would let someone rot so much
As to not be rotten?

I'll be nothing but lightly packed dust
And it'll be true
That no love had ever touched me,
By the time the stars come out.

What I managed to regrow,

You stomped on.

You waltzed into my garden

Like you had grown the whole place yourself,

Your nose in the air.

You looked at my carrots and scoffed,

My cucumbers you mocked

And you thought my garden gnomes were ******.



And I let you,

Because you acted like you knew so much about gardening

You said the caterpillars would help my leaves

And the crows would **** out my rotten veggies

But those cruel birds have just been eating away at my prize-winning squash,

and the tomato worms....well, they ate all my ripe tomatoes.



You said  you'd help me tend to my garden

But you rarely make it over

And when you do, you throw a shovel in my face

And tell me to get on my knees.

You watch while I ****

And talk about the grandeur of the flowers next door.

And I wonder as I wipe my brow,

What I ever thought I needed you for?

And why you ever came over in the first place,

Since you obviously prefer pretty colors to nutrition

And you must have had some notion that I would one day realize,

That you've never kept anything alive in your life,

And you don't even have a yard.