You’re not sick. It’s a trick of the brambleTo steal the lightOr outright strangle all other plants. You’re healthy.Not a sickly flowerNo. Your roots are strong.You have that power.You’d go a long way, given the chance,I’d say. But all is not equal. The bramble bushes got here first;Poisoned the soil; slaked their thirst.The dice were [...]
Should we pity Hand in his insanity For cutting himself off from his humanity? Or do we merely feel contempt That Hand should think himself exempt From feeding Mouth or wiping Bum?
I wish that you could see yourself
The way that I see you
When you’re smiling at me;
It's time to choose what matters more: Future hope? or keeping score?
It’s real. It’s true True as you are. Now.