My mind is a trick-seed sprouting in me
Runners wide run in rich but shallow soil
Each birthing things that were not meant to be
Deserted, parched they die as I recoil
A false womb am I and guilty tears shed
Over false dreams buried in open graves
Who will come to avenge the wanton dead
The miscarriages flow in scarlet waves
‘Had you but fed us,’ each cries out, ‘you could
Now reap.’ As weeds they rise from their dark holes
And invading, choking out new crops would
Paralyze this befuddled, barren soul
Who can supplant the worming roots, their cry
And fate other than death my dreams supply?

Listen to I
Walking the skies
Listen to the mist
Worry not weariest
Landing on a poem
Standing on a drone
Flying amongst blue skies
Smoking mind a rhyme.

Why oh why do I do this?
Talking to you is a bad habit,
One that I can't break,
You pull me in.

It's easy, I drift away like a kite in the breeze.
Back to when we were together,
Talking about everything and nothing,
Being perfectly content.

This is dangerous.
We broke up for a reason.

I begin to wonder if it will always be like this,
If I will always want you
Now I can't see myself with anyone else,
When I think of you my heart melts.

This is hard.