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I am not as innocent as I look
I have craters in my bones
my blood flows too quickly and my heart is full of black dirt
but this soil is good for planting
so I told myself I'll be a garden
I tell myself it matters, when
it really, really doesn't
the black soil slips her fingers under my skin
and cradles my skull to her chest
we are flying, she says,
but it feels more like falling;
she is bottomless and I want to reach new depths.
Fire, Water and Air the main elements of earth
I told him that he is my world
He is the soil where I planted my love and
I hoped he would Water the garden I made for him
He is the Fire that keeps me warm to the core and
It only got warmer when he touched me
I prayed to the Lord to never take my love for then
The Air that I breathe would be taken away from me
Sometimes I wonder
Just what is the point
Of cultivating a dead garden?
A dying friendship?

The flowers only wilt
The conversation scarce
No matter how much you check on them
Defend them from the elements
Encourage and will them to exist
There exist only the hard truth

You can only grow
What wishes to grow
Save
What wishes to be saved.
Night is a garden,
Full of blooms, deep dark,scenting
Marijuana
Renai Oct 21
O' prepossessing garden

for you resemble my youth,

an innocence I no longer bear.
Thank you for taking the time to read this!
Leah 4d
here is the blood of women
his love was the death
to her summer
a garden of worship
built from skin & screams
repulsive but better in dreams
A gravekeeper by trade
burying the dead to stay alive
with a green thumb and *****
the unused earth oh how it strives!

Fat tubers and roots
green leaves with red veins
small vines sprouting fruits
even a small section for grains

The gravekeeper never goes hungry
his family never starves
he loves living in the country
and his plot of earth that he carves

One day two fresh dead
and a rat, maybe two scampered by
soon a sickness to be widespread
day by day how that multiplied!

More bodies into the earth
how did his garden shrink
he was crying and crying
this gravekeeper didn't know what to think!

Should he be happy for business
should he be sad for the loss
is he crying for his vegetables
or is he crying for the bodies that are tossed

Little by little did the green become stone
his loved ones feast on a diet of worms
now he, a lonely gardener of bones
sits and watches as his world burns
"Never promise some one what you can't deliver,
       only commit to what you are capable of as a giver,
            or else someone's hope and life whilst waiting might wither"
You don't have to promise the entire rose garden, just one should be enough
Rose wither on the branch but awaits to bloom again
"Never promise some one what you can't deliver,
       only commit to what you are capable of as a giver,
            or else someone's hope and life whilst waiting might wither"
You don't have to promise the entire rose garden, just one should be enough
Rose wither on the branch but awaits to bloom again
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