I’ve given up on looking at rain
As a shower or a baptism
But rather as a storm every time
That drowns me
Not in small droplets
But in a tsunami
Flooding down on me all at once
So that I am plunged into the blurry
Bubbled filled atmosphere
Where my legs anchor as roots
Into the earth
I am planted
In the sopping soil
Of my grandmother’s garden
A cemented backyard in Glendale
I’m unable to hold up my pedals
To give her any sign of beauty
In the storm from her hose on its mist setting
That my eyes translate as thunderbolts
Striking at my weak anorexic stem
With no thorns to bring into combat
And no where near the fight of a saxifrage
I am the weak
I will not survive
And I have no fucking excuse
I'm painless but still burdened, so a numbing of my voice won't answer to your pain. But I'd commit suicide and plant you a garden with all your favorite flowers if it meant that when I die you'd bury me there, making us last forever and ever and everything inbetween.
Strive for the roots you've displaced, you are the place you cannot stay. Every resolve results in heartache, your youth was marked by guilt and longing.
Do you feel the burden? This is misery.
The flowers in your hair guarded a garden that'd yet to bloom, seeds of comfort, comfort contentment. It took 18 years to realize the garden was a grave dug to hide your head.
Do you feel the burden? This is misery, this is company, this is comfort, comfort contentment.
Staying up late for early morning classes with no one by my side. This is misery, this is company, this is comfort, comfort contentment.
released April 15, 2014
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